


One saved, more left behind

by Congar



Series: One falls anthology [3]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Post-Endgame, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, True Ending Spoilers, Undertale Monsters on the Surface
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2018-03-23
Packaged: 2018-11-14 18:54:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 43
Words: 153,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11214165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Congar/pseuds/Congar
Summary: An entire people saved, but at what cost? How much weight can one carry before their shoulders break? A beacon of hope has been lit, and it stands tall and proud to guide the monsters to a new future.The beacon shines like a new sun, but what it had to burn to achieve it has left permanent shadows.Shadows that may grow longer than what the beacon can reach.





	1. Reminiscing about what did and didn't happen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a catch up chapter for any old and newcomers to the story.  
> It is highly recommended that you read both [One falls, more rise](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6746278/chapters/15416806) and [More rose, one remains](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8324611/chapters/19065982) before proceeding further since the catch up chapter can only catch up so much.
> 
>  
> 
> [ Cover image made by the incredible PolarisSketches!](https://polarissketches.tumblr.com/post/168968758113/commission-by-the-author-congar-from-archive-of)
> 
>  
> 
> With that said, please enjoy One saved, more left behind.

 

“You woke up to the same silence, to the same ray of sun slashing the bed at the same angle as always. This morning, however, was different. You felt something, a rush of energy surging through you. With unfamiliar spring in your knees you decided to go for a run. Why? You just had this feeling, right? Call it magical if you will, but that would be spoiling it, don't you think?

Anyway, after a quick stop to greet the family that left you behind, you set off up towards Mt. Ebott. One of many times to come, but you didn’t know that, not at this time at least.

You reached the plateau after some pained effort. The setting sun blinding you as you took some rest while swinging your legs over the edge overlooking your town. Then you heard a sound, a voice. You turn around to meet it, but the only mouth you saw was that of a cave. Curiously, you peeked inside, and scared you bolted away from the monsters closing in on you. You tripped, and landed head first on a stone. Also one of many times to come. You should really have that head looked at. Although, there are worse things to happen to it, and the rest of you.

So, after a quicker run down the mountain, and with the encourage of Undyne, you arrived home in record time. Still with your head pounding you collapsed in Undyne’s arms. Don’t tell Alphys about it, she’ll be jealous.

The morning after you were greeted to legends walking around in your kitchen. Lizards, fish, and even skeletons. Pretty scary, right? One would think that, but perhaps the nostalgic warmth of family and friends smothered that anxiety. Who knows? To be honest, I don’t think even you know that.

Turns out the legends were friendly, who would’ve thought? Not you, obviously, not now, but back then you didn’t have this baggage. Heck, you didn’t even have the bags to back it. They told you that they came from a place called the Underground located deep beneath Mt Ebott. Yes, I know, you’re all familiar with it, you know every nook and cranny of it, but you didn’t back then. You didn’t even know the difference between a Vulkin or a Radentim, but I’ll get there, don’t worry. I’m trying to build up some atmosphere here, do you mind?

So, you sampled the wonderful world of taste that the Underground had to offer the hungry and thirsty. Spaghetti as stiff as a load bearing cement pillar, snails salted to a mushy paste, and last you had Golden Flower tea. That you pretty much fell in love with though.

You learned about the monsters plan to return to the Surface, their new chapter, and you were invited to write it with them. Which was great, it meant that you now had a job! There was a small formality of an interview first, but nothing you couldn’t handle.

First you had to stock up on food. You had pretty much been living on the lowest form of food for way longer than acceptable, and your new chapter demanded effort. So why not start with filling the empty pantry?

Which you did, perhaps a bit too much. The cart was overflowing even before you began looking for the cashiers. No way that you would be able to carry it all home alone. So you chose a motorized wheelbarrow to help you carry it home.

Fair enough, I guess.

After you rolled the wheelbarrow home it was time for the interview. And what an interview it was! Seeing magic for the first time, again, first time you remember seeing it, but I digress. Seeing something that wonderful and having friends that would share something that intimate with you, it almost split your cheeks apart in glee. It felt a bit weird though, this magic, but it was probably your hunger. Actually, it felt pretty good. Didn’t stop you from lashing out against Toriel’s decision not to have you teach the kids magic, but it was probably your hunger again. Not even science, since it’s a derivative of magic. Or at least, that’s what the monsters thought before you showed them how humans saw the world. Fascinated, Toriel gave you the position.

There was this dream you had about her though, with her leaning into you and whispering into your ear. The whisper quickly turned into a shout as Papyrus woke you up. Like the good friend he is he reminded you to wake up not to be late for your first day at work!

The eyes of the monster kids as you explained just basic concept. According to you, that is. Like how rain fell from the sky, or how water can turn into vapor. Oh, you could go on for ages! But, lunch first, lunch with Toriel to be specific. You hurt yourself as much as you hurt her when you declined her offer to eat together at a restaurant, but she understood why. You haven’t really gotten over monsters existing yet, not fully, so how would literally anyone else react to seeing one, and with a human to boot!

Still, she was disappointed, and you could see it on her. Cheekily you accidentally suggested snails, and she agreed. Much to your dismay and fear. But hey, at least it cheered her up!

For the moment.

Where to find any? Sans suggested some on the side of the road, but you politely declined. In your quest you almost drowned in a sea of people, but a shortcut, one of many, later, you and Sans managed to escape it. You walked around with him for some time before finally finding a snail shop.

How and why it exists, or if it still does, we may never know.

Be it because of the fumes from the snail shop still hazing your mind, or be it because you were just plain stupid, you messed up with the delivery to Toriel. Couldn’t say that you didn’t know what flavor the snails were, because Sans picked them. So instead, you deiced that teasing her was the better option.

Like I said, should’ve gotten your head checked, but you were probably too busy using it as an excuse not to fight Undyne.

Half a goose chase later you finally found Sans again, and with one raised eyebrow and the other one furrowed in confusion he informed you that the flavor was on the container. With this in mind you managed to convince Toriel that it was just a joke, and motherly as she is, she forgave you. She invited you to her house, like a mother would, and she gave you tea and pastry, just like your mother did.

She caressed your chin as your mother’s image flooded back to you, she took you in as the thoughts overwhelmed you, and she comforted you when you couldn’t hold it in any longer.

But it wasn’t your fault, child. It wasn’t your fault.

Guess you reminded her of someone as well.

After you two had your moments together she asked you to take care of Frisk for their soccer practice while she ran away on an urgent meeting. You two had a nice walk together, but it was clear that Frisk didn’t want anything to do with the other kids.

Word had spread, and Frisk was now the monster kid. Being a monster among humans is not for the weak of heart, or soul. Not Frisk though, their heart is strong, and you could see it. So much so that you gave them a ride home on your shoulders. Toriel was so overwhelmed that she gave you an entire pie as a reward.

Just as planned.

Not one to deny visual metaphors, and not one to get the most use out of a questionable purchase, you brought the wheelbarrow with you to work. On your way there you were stopped by the builder that encouraged you to buy the wheelbarrow, and from him you learned about ‘Above School’ and ‘Above Laboratory’. The builder also let it slip that he knew your dad, and that he shared this because of a debt he felt he owed. You pressed him, but he wouldn’t tell.

You weren’t ready.

But that had to wait, you had teaching to do. This time with Undyne. She was a great help in demonstrating how dropped objects hit the ground at the same time as thrown objects. A simple demonstration how gravity works. Well, they would’ve done that if her spear didn’t crash into the office door where Toriel sat. Undyne decided that leaving silently through the window might be the best course of action.

Class went well despite the violent knock on Toriel’s door, and on your way home you met Alphys. Visibly anxious and desperate, she begged you for help. She had to get to the Underground, but Papyrus wasn’t anywhere near her to help, nor was Undyne. You looked down at your wheelbarrow, and after some fierce debating in your head, you agreed to help.

Up the mountain, and then down the mountain you rolled her, seeing the Underground for the first time. The formless corridor where the Barrier once stood, the vast gray horizon of New Home, and the sweatiness of Hotland.

You and Alphys bumbled your way into the Lab, and broke your wheelbarrow in the process. As the final guest, plus one, arrived, Asgore could finally tour the Underground with his human entourage consisting of influential humans, and apparently now you as well.

But you can’t join it dressed in a sweat shirt and track pants. Luckily, Alphys offered her shower and wardrobe to you, and her human clothing. Pink and yellow clothing with a matching cape, tiara, shoulder pads, and cat shoes.

Just like one of her human anime!

And anime is best when on TV, so when Mettaton arrived to pick up some spare parts for himself, he couldn’t let you waste your new potential, so with a signature that he signed with your hand you were now a guest to his show. After a quick stop to Radentim, his make up monster, you now looked exactly like the character your clothing suggested you were. The same gender as well.

The show went well, until Papyrus and Undyne crashed through the scene and rescued you from hearing what happened with the other kids that fell. Asgore’s order, Papyrus explained as he left you in Hotland to hurry back home in time to catch Mettaton’s show.

Sweaty and confused you had yourself an ice cream before deciding to try and catch up to Asgore and the humans. The path you chose turned out to be a bit more spidery than you liked though, and before you knew it, you were having tea with Muffet. With some quick thinking and with a peck on her cheek, you managed to escape her grasp.

You allowed yourself a moment to stuff your mouth full of your cape, and scream your fears into it.

Waterfall fared a bit better, after the confusing run in with the Temmies, that is. Gerson saw your perplexed state and offered you some tea in exchange that you talked with him for a while. Didn’t sound like the worst idea so you happily accepted the offer.

After some reminiscing about the royal wedding he invited you to do it on your own. He presented you a gift given to him for his services during it. A memory box, containing his memories about the event. After a flash of light you opened his eyes as your own. You were Gerson at the wedding, and you saw the magnificence of a Underground with pride and hope.

After watching Asgore recover from a slip up from Toriel you were dragged back to reality. His memories faded from your head after a couple of minutes, but before they were completely gone you were quizzical why your hand had five fingers instead of four. After you remembered that five fingers is the correct amount Gerson thanked you for your company and gave you directions to catch up with the human group.

The rest of your trip through Waterfall went by with just some minor hiccups, considering, and while tucking in an Echo Flower that you picked, you reached Snowdin. A sign caught your eye, and as the helpful person you are, you decided to enter this ‘Librarby‘ and inform the owner that their sign is misspelled.

Inside you met Sans, who were handing in some books from the Surface. After being harshly shushed by the owner from greeting Sans a bit too loud, you were welcomed into the store. You had a quick chat and was recommended a best seller, ‘I woke up human!’. It centers around a monster being turned into a ugly human and being shunned for being ugly and a human.

You promised you would finish it if you ever found time in your schedule. Still, you thanked the librabrian for the gift and left with Sans. Hearing your stomach rumble he suggested Grillby’s.

You told him about your travels through the Underground, and when he heard about the memory box he excused himself and dashed out of the restaurant. It was the fastest you’ve ever seen him move.

He told you he’d be back soon, but soon quickly turned into much later, yet still he didn’t return. Being an alone human in a tavern full of monsters wasn’t really what you had planned for the day. As you tried to leave you bumped into something metallic. You were forced back down into the seat and before you knew it, you were surrounded by hounds. They inspected you, and threw you a bone, so that you could throw it for them. They carried you outside as you failed to grasp what was going on, and again you were given the bone. You tossed it, and the dogs gave chase.

You played with them until their shift started. They thanked you, and went on their way. Left alone again, you wondered if Sans might be back at Grillby’s. As you turned back towards Snowdin you heard laughter from behind you.

A familiar silhouette stood in some mist, and when you spotted it it turned around and headed away from town. You gave chase, but Sans seemed to always be one step ahead. You eventually came across a large stone door. The laughter continued behind it so you entered.

Through a house you continued your chase, through some strange ruins, and finally you caught him standing in the middle of a patch of flowers. Carefully you approached him, but a vine snatched your legs and hoisted you up. The laughter turned into a roar, and as you managed to escape you realized that it wasn’t Sans’ voice.

His form burst into roots and disappeared into the ground. Left standing was a flower just barely taller than the others. It introduced itself as Flowey, and politely asked you to reset. When you couldn’t, he shrugged his vines and said that he tried to be nice, but evidently it didn’t work. When he couldn’t convince your soul to show, he attacked you.

You put up a fierce battle with him, but he tricked you. He left you barely clinging for life, but that was only what he had planned for you body. Your soul is what he wanted, and just as he was about to get it, he was hit with a ball of fire.

Flowey retreated down into the ground as Asgore rushed to you. He demanded the humans summoned help, and as your vision faded, he promised you would survive.

The next thing you remembered was being jolted awake by men in suits. Before you could understand that you were in a hospital they started questioning you about what you heard during your time in the Underground. In your pain and panic you let it slip that you heard something about dead humans.

What follows is a haze of waking up and losing consciousness again, eventually you learned that you were under legal protection, sparked by the rude awakening the men in suits gave you. Monster Lawyer, Monster Kid’s dad, introduced himself to you as your legal representative. He expressed great interest in your case, and was happy to have you as a client. You extended your hand to thank him.

While the gesture might’ve been a bit fruitless, he at least appreciated the thought behind it.

Rehabilitation is a tough road to walk, whether Undyne helped or made it harder, that you’re still debating about, but nevertheless, you walked it to be able to walk again. It took some time, and some effort, but eventually you were discharged with a pair of crutches. Papyrus gave you a ride home, and a nicely cooked meal for once. After you helped him with it, of course.

An old friend also greeted you, and you immediately questioned why it was even able to do it. Alphys admitted that she used some spare parts to repair your wheelbarrow, she even gave it a pair of legs that even Mettaton would be jealous of.

With spring finally back in your knees you returned to teaching the monster kids about the new world around them.

For about five minutes.

Another group of suits interrupted your lesson, and after you finished it you were handed a letter. You were summoned to a hearing regarding the monsters returning to the Surface. You were asked as a witness by the humans. Because of the nature of the trial you were also forbidden to have any sort of contact with them until the court’s closed.

Bogged down with this, you decided you needed some legal advice, or maybe just a way to vent. You sat down next to your family and tried to make sense of things. It didn’t go so well, and in your failed attempts you attracted the pastor. He reminded you that despite not being able to forgive what your parents did, he still mourned their deaths, like with everyone under his wings. He showed you a scar that looked just like one you had. The same vicious cut, and he told you that the monsters had that name for a reason. Some legends are true, and some turn to dust. Your family knew that.

With this in mind you rushed as fast as you could to the building site. You demanded that the builder told you what he knew about your dad.

You still weren’t ready, but that didn’t matter now.

He told you what happened all those years ago. You and your family were tending your summer home on the other side of Mt. Ebott when a creature came from the forest carrying a child. The builder approached the monster as it fell down on its knees.

He was slashed wide open by the monster. He remembered the other humans driving the monster away, and he remembered crying for his wife and kids. Your father came up to him, and healed him.

Not a minute after the builder stood up, he was weak, but he was alive. He turned to thank your father, but he couldn’t find him anywhere close.

Your father had left the builder, and had approached the smoke left behind by the monster. A red glow was fading away in it, but your dad forced it back into the still body. A piece broke off and disappeared before your father could grab it, and the builder’s spine tingled as the pained howl your father let out still haunted him to this day.

The pastor warned your family about this, he warned them about the curse, but they wouldn’t listen. They were responsible for the attack.

And now both the pastor and the builder were to testify in court, but the monsters had chosen the builder.

They arrived to discuss with the builder, and you had to hide. In your haste you picked up a clipboard and made yourself look busy. With some luck you managed to slip past Asgore and Monster Lawyer’s surprise visit.

You had no idea what to make of the builder’s story, but you knew where you would find out. The village where it all started.

After a bumpy ride on your wheelbarrow you arrived at the abandoned community. There was something there, a thick aura that covered the place. You felt it inside you, and in the middle of it you saw a patch of withered flowers. An outline of a small human child caught your eye, and with heavy legs you walked closer.

The aura became thicker the more you approached the flowers. Your face blossomed, your legs felt stronger. You tossed your crutches away, you didn’t need them anymore. You stood tall over the pathetic mark you left behind so many years ago. You started to think, about the trial, about the monsters. How weak they really were, how they dared to demand equal footing with you humans.

An invisible hand squeezed your heart, draining whatever strength you received. You fell over, and had it not been for your wheelbarrow carrying you home, well, you don’t really know what the hell would’ve happened.

You arrived home parched and weak, but before you could fully rest you were summoned to the trial, effective immediately. The paper had found out about it, and both parties had agreed that sooner is better. You were given a sandwich and hauled to the court.

The trial, a chance for the humans and monsters to reconcile old hatred and bury the hatch. What really happened, was a bit different. The humans had found out what an Echo Flower was, and they had managed to get their hands on the one your wore during your encounter with Flowey.

Feeling a corner close in on him, Asgore decided to play his trump card. He summoned the pastor, and had him explain the legend of the crimson heart. A heart said to hold immense power, but that power wasn’t stable. Uncontrollable, almost. The beings possessed with this soul were said to be a great weapon, but untameable.

Asgore explained that one of these cursed beings had fused with his son, and because of that he had done what he did. A curse had shattered the Underground that day, and it still echoed throughout the Underground until the Barrier was finally shattered.

One with this curse had been summoned to the trial, and they were now invited up to the confession booth. All eyes were upon you, and you took your place.

Asgore begged for your forgiveness as he summoned the curse from within you. You became possessed by it, and monster and human alike cowered as you threatened anyone that would stand in your way.

You were quickly taken care of by a shock pistol from behind. Your unconscious body was escorted out of the court, and it continued without you.

As a thanks for your service, and as a gesture of goodwill, you and Toriel were invited to dinner at the fanciest restaurant in town. It was cut short though as you were then invited to the revealing of the brand new and shining example of human and monster cooperation, Above Laboratory. Well, it wasn’t completely done, but it was done enough to warrant celebrating.

After the first half of a very boring tour you were dragged to the side by Sans. Your contributions to monsterkind had not gone unnoticed, and to congratulate you on that Asgore had given you access to the building. Sans just gave you the card a bit earlier since he was also curious what was going on. Frisk as well.

Sans took keen interest in the most ominous door, and when you pointed it out to him, he waved it away. You three entered to find Alphys tinkering with a machine the likes you’ve never seen. As fascinating as it was scary, and as scary as it was confusing. As Sans started it up you took notice of a familiar clipboard lying on a nearby table. You recognized the handwriting on it, it was your own. You didn’t have time to warn them before the machine started collapsing on itself. You grabbed Frisk and ran.

With the void right behind you, consuming everything it could find, you ran for your and Frisk’s life, but you weren’t fast enough.

You woke up to the same silence, to the same ray of sun slashing the bed at the same angle as always. This morning however, was different. You felt something, a rush of energy surging through you. With unfamiliar spring in your knees you decided to go for a run. Why? You just felt like it, right? Call it magical if you will.

Anyway, after a quick stop to greet the family that left you behind, you set off up towards Mt. Ebott. One of many times to come.

You reached the plateau after some pained effort. The setting sun blinding you as you took some rest while swinging your legs over the edge overlooking your town. Then you heard a sound, a voice. You turn around to meet it, but the only mouth you saw was that of a cave. Curious you peeked inside, and scared you bolted away from the monsters closing in on you. You tripped, and after a long fall, you landed on a patch of flowers.

Then you met me, your twin. I did you the favor of telling you everything that had happened so that you wouldn’t make the same mistake you did before Frisk was forced to reset. With the help of your family, I set your head and broken soul together again, and gave you a second chance.

You only had to do one favor for me, bring back Asriel. I didn’t exactly say it to you, but I figured the implication was good enough.

Turns out it wasn’t just me that wanted him back, but maybe not for the same reasons. Thanks to you forcing Frisk to reset the memories of it lingered with your friends. They struggled to separate what didn’t happen, and what was actually happening. They had been spared that fate the first time you met because of you being such a big change in their life that the previous resets didn’t apply anymore.

Who else could do the same?

Asriel.

So, you hatched a plan together with Sans and Frisk. You were to try and convince Flowey to follow you back up to the Surface, but disguised as his best friend. This way you would have the biggest chance of success.

So you prepared, you watched our tapes, you went clothes shopping, and you had a haircut. All to be as much as your twin as possible, both in looks, and in manner.

Making your way down to the Underground again, you danced around as me, you tried to lure him out, but he wouldn’t show himself. Not in Asgore’s throne room, not in the CORE, not in MTT Hotel, not even in Hotland. He was nowhere to be found.

During your search you came across something else though. Another level to the Lab, and the secrets it held.

Secrets you were lied to about, and boy did you let Sans and Frisk know how you felt about it. So much so that Sans figured that you weren’t you anymore, and attacked. You held your own against him, but you didn’t win without taking a few hits too many. Just as you were about to collapse you were grabbed by a vine. A soft flower leaned over your face.

He promised he would heal you, his best friend.

You woke up in a bed too small for you. Blood stained your entire being. Hunger and thirst plagued you, your entire body screamed in pain, but you were alive. You were alone though, and Flowey was again nowhere to be found. You had to go after him, again, but not in the state you were, and not in the clothing you wore.

Luckily you found some food to eat and some clothes to wear. Unfortunately Toriel’s robe weren’t exactly your size, but it had to do. A blue jacket you also wore, its previous owner now just a pile of dust underneath a boulder. Again limping from your encounter with Flowey, you made yourself through the Underground.

Once in Snowdin you ran into Asgore and the human tour. He had some questions about your familiar attire. You were lucky he had more pressing matters on his mind, and by the skin of your teeth, you managed to continue without a pair of guards escorting you.

Your clothing drew a bit more attention in the Waterfall, especially the condiment stained jacket you had. With a well placed leg you tripped and fell into the dark water. A soap was tossed and instructions to wosh your jacket echoed as the sound of your loud splash died off.

Gerson heard you cussing out the Woshua and came to help, after you had washed yourself. He kindly offered to take the queen’s robes off of you and gave you some less conspicuous clothing.

With fresh clothes you navigated through a trap set by Mettaton, and arrived back at Hotland. After some small talk with Tsundere plane, who totally just did it because it had nothing else to do at the moment, really, you hitched a ride to MTT Hotel.

From there you found your way back to Asgore’s house. The door was unlocked, and slightly ajar. Someone else was there. You looked around the house, and in one room you found him. Flowey, dressed up as Asriel.

He quickly realized that you weren’t Chara the second you opened your mouth, and lunged at you. He easily toppled you over since you were so weak, but when he tried to escape you asked for his forgiveness. Curious, he stopped, and tried to pry some more out of you.

You explained your goal, and he scoffed at you. He asked you what would happen if he didn’t wanted Asriel to come back. Would you still force him?

You said that you wouldn’t, and that this wild chase had taken more out of you than bringing back Asriel would ever give you. It wasn’t worth it to chase him anymore, you were done. Flowey agreed to come with you, on the condition that you showed him where I lived before I fell into the Underground. You agreed to his terms.

As you arrived back home however, you were lured down into your basement. A new soul extractor, stolen by Sans, stood menacingly in the back end. With a blue glow Flowey was thrown into it, and with a bony finger, Sans switched it on.

He gave you an almost empty bag of fake dust he’d used to fool you that he was dead. He also told you that you were free to open the extractor and save Flowey, but that he would die if you did.

The process had already started.

So there you sat with Sans, waiting. Watching Flowey twist and flinch in agony. At last the machine finished its task with a cheerful ding. Sans gave you a memory box and told you to be ready to catch whatever soul came out of the hatch. You caught the bright white soul.

But not in the box. You caught it in your own soul.

Asriel’s essence spread around your body, changing your form into something that had only existed once before. You felt your mind fade away, and as soon as your form stopped changing, you fell down limp and unconscious.

You and Asriel traveled your mind until you met Chara and Flowey. After a hectic discussion Asriel joined Chara’s side, and you realized that he was a memory, the real soul inside you was Flowey. Chara wouldn’t let that be though. They hunted you down and ripped Flowey out of you, and forced Asriel in. They reminded you that the one you were supposed to bring back was Asriel, Chara’s Asriel. Not Flowey, not the one that realized who Chara actually was.

You awoke alone in your new form bound to the machine by a chain. Undyne stood guard over the foreign monster with her spear, threatening you to spill the beans before she spilled them for you. Sans thanked her for her enthusiasm, but her energy was best spent explaining what was happening to Toriel and Asgore. Before Undyne could loudly protest Sans shortcutted away with you and Frisk to try and wrestle Asriel out of you.

There’s one place that might work. The place where it all started.

The village.

Your head started spinning as soon as you stepped foot into it. Asriel’s memories mixed with your own. You saw yourself die, you saw Asriel run away, and you heard your parents cry.

But you fought him. You were determined to force him out of you. You dragged your combined soul out of you, and you ripped him out of it! You woke up shortly after still with fur on your chest, but it wasn’t yours.

It was Asriel’s.

He was back!

That means that your promise was fulfilled. With the burden of your friends memories removed from your shoulders you packed your things, and left them to their own future.”

Chara takes a dramatic breath of air.

“And that’s your story so far, Aofil.”

Aofil sighs and rubs their forehead. “Again you leave out some of the most important things, Chara. If anything I’m now less likely to believe what you said the first time. Why are you even here?”

“I don’t know.” Chara shrugs their shoulder. “I’m pretty sure that I’m just your head trying to make sense out of all this. To be honest, you kinda need to if you really intend to leave everything behind.”

“Well, I was on my way until you felt the need to bring it up again.” Aofil looks around the black nothing that they and Chara stand in. “So, this is just a dream? Nothing else?”

“Nothing else.”

Aofil raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

A chuckle from Chara echoes throughout the void around. “Well,” they lean back into their hands behind their head, “that’s for you to decide.”

Aofil wakes up to the new silence, the new ray of sun slashing their bed at the new angle. They look at their alarm clock, still an hour or so before they have to get up. They turn to their side, and closes their eyes again.


	2. Echoes of a previous life

"And there it is, ladies and gentlemen. The first day of the trial to determine the shared future of monsters and humans has began on this cloudless day. The air around here is tense with expectations. What was not long ago just legends are now staking claim on a home they once inhabited. To say that the people are split about it is to be gravely underestimated. You sir, what are your thoughts on this?”

After rubbing the tiredness out of their eyes, Aofil reaches for the dial.

“YOU SEE!”

Their hand hesitates for a second.

“I, THE GREAT!”

The voice fades away as Aofil turns off their radio. They sigh at having to be reminded again, and curse under their breath before getting out of their bed. Their yawn bounces around the living room as they near their kitchen. Scrounging through their pantry, they eventually find the last bag of tea. They make a mental note to buy some more on the way home before putting their kettle on. It’s not long before the smell of generic tea fills their apartment.

As the water heats up Aofil makes their way to the bathroom. On the way they make a quick stop by the door to pick up today’s newspaper. They don’t make an effort to read it, but they still catch the headline out of the corner of their eye. Again they twist their lips into a frown and sigh. Guess they’re gonna have to be reminded of everything again, despite their best efforts not to.

They place the newspaper in their bathroom sink to prevent clogging. Their electric razor beeps as they take it off the charging station. They comb through the fur on their arm to get it as separated as possible so that their razor removes as much as possible. With a couple of methodical strokes on their forearm they cover the large headlines about the new monster city with a small shower of glistening white fur.

They rub the last strands off their arm and fold the newspaper over the small mounds of fur. They rinse the blades under the faucet, and return the razor to its charger next to the unused manual razors. There’s still some stubble left on their forearm, but Aofil isn’t gonna risk cutting an artery to get rid of it. They’ve already prepared an excuse for it so there’s no need to risk bleeding out on a consistent basis. Having different colored hair on your body than on your head isn’t rare, so Aofil’s sure that they’re gonna be in the clear about it.

With the fur out of the way they check their eyes in the mirror. They detect a faint red glow deep inside their iris. It’s not much, and no one except Aofil would notice it, but it’s there. They tap their cheeks and the surrounding skin. They’re not sure whether it is because they slept on their side or not, but their cheek feels just a bit warmer than the rest of their face.

They fill a small cup with water and fetch their medicine. They bounce a pill in their hand before looking at their eyes again. Aofil shakes out another pill, better not risk it. Not today. With a confident throw the pills hit the roof of Aofil’s mouth and they rinse the pills down with a mouthful of water. They put the lid back on the pill jar and drop it into their pocket. Again, better not risk it. Before they leave they clear their throat and spit some of the night’s determination into the sink to wash it away.

After a quick shower Aofil brings the folded newspaper along with its contents to the fireplace. They lit a match and throw it onto the newspaper. As the fire starts to spread they close the hatch to keep the smell of burning hair from escaping. They made that mistake once, and will never make it again.

The kettle whistles a sharp b tone, and Aofil pours themselves a cup. They rinse the taste of determination out of their mouth, and then proceeds with the rest of their breakfast.

Aofil brings a bowl of cereal out to the living room and opens a window to let some fresh air and sun in. The announcer on the radio was right, it is a cloudless day. Though that’s probably just a coincidence. Any weather forecast at Mt. Ebott isn’t gonna be representative of where Aofil lives now.

Not to say that Aofil doesn’t welcome the sun despite it shining the same on what they’ve tried to leave behind them. They still haven’t shaken off the habit of eating outside, and having the window open is their way of easing it out of their system.

What they haven’t found is a way to subdue the feeling of silence that’s present in their apartment. Sure, there’s traffic outside, but that’s just noise. There’s no life anymore, or, to be specific, it’s so much less than before that it could just as well be described as dead. Before all that happened, they had the same silence with every meal, with every minute, and with every second. It still tingles their spine a bit, but they’re making progress in trying to ignore it. Aofil’s has told themselves that the feeling is a side effect from their medicine. Despite the feeling, they’ll take that over what their medicine subdues any day of the week.

They know that it will fade once they get a goal in life, and today’s the day. Afterwards they just have to make it through their morning routine. Easy, compared to now. Still, it doesn’t help that they were reminded again, but they’ll roll with it.

Aofil taps their spoon on their bowl.

They’ll roll with it.

As they catch the clock Aofil hurries the rest of their breakfast down. They rinse their dishes before heading back to the bathroom to brush their teeth. With that done Aofil checks their eyes in the mirror again. The red inside their iris is gone, and their cheeks are the same temperature as the rest of their skin. No determination as they spit out the toothpaste either.

Good.

They still decide to bring along their pills, just to be safe.

With their backpack over their shoulder Aofil nods to one of their neighbor as they make it down the stairs. Aofil holds the door open for them and get a thankful nod back. The street outside is buzzing with the usual morning traffic, and Aofil joins the stream of people making their way to whatever life they have. After a bit of struggling, Aofil manages to untangle their headphone cable and puts on some music to calm themselves a bit. Both from what they heard, and where they’re going.

The subway station isn’t that far away from their apartment, and then, the school they’re heading to be interviewed at isn’t that far from one either, so all in all it’s a pretty easy commute should they land the job. Combine that with their music holding their focus, Aofil can almost blink and be at work. Again, if they land the job.

It’s been a rough couple of months with them not really making any progress with forgetting, or moving on. The pills helped a bit, but not as much as they wished. They’re still gonna need them even if they succeed with the interview, but not for the same reason.

This time they will actually help.

Slowly they got a grasp on themselves, and realized that the best way for them to cope is to occupy themselves so that they have more pressing matters in their head. They have to actually do something to be able to forget. Aofil has to make a habit out of not thinking about their past.

At first they thought that being a teacher again would just be the complete opposite of what they were trying to do, remind them every single day. But, the more they thought about it, the more they convinced themselves of another possibility. Instead of reminding, being a human teacher would replace monster memories with human memories.

Aofil’s still not fully convinced, but they believe it enough to give it a chance. It’s the only way they can think of.

Today’s the day they start to forget.

Something catches their eye though while they’re making their way down the stairs leading to the subway. Their heart race as they spot a red convertible idling before a stop sign. The driver is human though, and as Aofil mutters to themselves for scaring themselves, they get bumped by a passerby that gives them an annoyed glare. The light turns green and the car drives away. Aofil readjusts the straps on their backpack and continue down into the subway.

//

“Morning, Aofil,” greets one of their colleagues. “Coffee?” they ask with a cup outstretched.

Aofil takes it and gives it a sip. “Thanks.”

“So,” the colleague serves a cup to himself, “did you hear the news? First brick has been laid for the new monster city.”

“Nah,” Aofil shrugs as they sit down, “I’m not into monster stuff, really.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” the colleague laughs out.

“Neither did I,” Aofil corrects. “It’s just,” they blow their lips nonchalantly, “I don’t know, I’m just not interested. You have those prints I asked for yesterday, Tylior?”

“Sure do,” he throws them down in front of Aofil and takes a seat opposite them, “but honestly, Aof, come on. Not even a little bit with the monsters?”

Aofil furrows their brow as they drink some more coffee. They shake their head as they swallow.

Tylior rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure you don’t care about literal legends reintegrating into society. Of course you wouldn’t be interested in the biggest event in human history. We’re living this, Aofil, at least you could feign some interest?”

Aofil lets the question hang for a while as they skim through the papers handed to them. “Hasn’t really been relevant the years I’ve been working here, Tylior.” They reach the end of the papers much sooner than they thought they would. “I mean, you’ve only brought the monsters up today despite them being on the news at least once a week for like five years.”

“You weren’t really the talkative type at the beginning, Aofil. Took some time for you to come out of your shell, you know? By that time I just didn’t bother asking.”

Aofil scoffs. “You and no one else, you mean?”

Tylior drums his fingers on the table. “How many pills did you take this morning, Aofil?”

“One,” comes an emotionless response.

“Take another, I can hear your voice slipping a bit.”

Aofil meets Tylior’s concerning eyes and blinks out of the haze they see building up in front of them. Dammit, they shouldn’t have risked it this morning. They put down the papers and take out their pill jar and swallow another one along with some coffee. The mix is not sitting well with them. “Thanks,” they still say.

“No problem, Aof.”

The room is silent for a minute as Aofil flips the papers back and forth. They read and reread the bullet points again and again, but there seems to be some stuff missing.

“You sure this is all, Tylior?”

He nods. “For today that is, there’s gonna be some new stuff later tonight, but I’ll have a printout for you tomorrow. Did you see that about the new data system?”

“Yeah, but I’m sure they’ll find a way to make it so that it won’t save us any work.”

Tylior chokes on his coffee as he hears Aofil’s quip. “Yeah,” he coughs one more time, “you’re probably right. Oh, speaking of something entirely else, Julie thought that maybe we could go out for a movie and drinks this weekend?”

Aofil nods. “Sounds like a plan! I’m pretty sure I can get Wednesday's test done by Friday so I should have the weekend free.”

Tylior puts his hand up, “Nice,” and Aofil meets it. “Sunday lunch as well?”

“Sure. Depends how hungover we’ll be, though.”

Tylior checks the clock and downs the last of his coffee. He scoots out of his chair and leans into Aofil as he passes them. “Exactly.”

Aofil waves him off as they return to the papers Tylior printed out. They furrow their brow at the bullet point stating that a new standard test is on its way, but that shouldn’t be a problem for them.

Worse things have happened.

“Morning, class,” Aofil greets as they enter the classroom. They get a halfhearted response, but it doesn’t really bother them. Were it not for the coffee they just had they would be feeling the same. It’s always the same with morning classes.

“So,” Aofil picks up a whiteboard pen and takes off the lid, “let’s continue with friction today. As we learned yesterday, when there’s a difference in velocity between two objects, be it a table and a book,” Aofil pushes one on their desk, “or my pen on this whiteboard. Even ice on ice experiences friction, just not as much.”

Aofil writes some formulas on the whiteboard.

“Who wants to guess how this works?” they ask the classroom while pointing to the first formula. There’s no hands to begin with, but one is raised eventually. “Yes?”

“Magic?”

The classroom starts to giggle. Aofil feels the grip on their pen harden. They breath in calmly, and exhale carefully to steady their voice. “No, not really.”

They spin the pen in their hand as they wait for the giggling to die down. It takes a while. Good, means Aofil managed to catch themselves in time. As the room becomes silent again, Aofil starts explaining how the formulas come together, “It all starts with the force equation,” and as they continue they see more and more heads nod in understanding. Aofil finishes by making groups and handing out some assignments for the class to complete.

Most of the class manages to complete it before the class ends, and Aofil gives out some light homework for today’s lesson. There’s a bit of a sigh from the class, but it’s for their own good.

And for Aofil’s amusement, of course.

As the class leaves the principal enters after a knock on the door frame. “You got a minute?”

Aofil nods. “Sure, what is it?”

“I saw that all the information didn’t make it out yesterday.”

“I thought it felt a bit small, yeah.”

The principal nods. “Right, we’ll get it sorted out until tomorrow morning though, but I’m just gonna tell you right now that you might need to stay a couple of hours extra on Wednesday. I got an offer of a sponsored lesson not so many days ago and I want you to hold it.”

The principal catches Aofil’s less than happy expression.

“You’ll get payed for it though, pretty well actually. At least double.”

Aofil’s frown turns back up. “So what’s it about?”

“If you could condense the sophomore year’s science curriculum to around two hours it would be fantastic. You don’t really have to delve deep into the specifics, just keep their attention for two hours.”

Aofil catches the time and starts erasing the last lesson’s notes from the whiteboard to make way for the upcoming one. “Who am I presenting for?”

“I’ll have the specifics tomorrow, that okay with you?”

“Fine by me, I’ve been waiting to get a beachfront property.”

The principal laughs. “You know, I wouldn’t be surprised if you did.”

Aofil fails to properly catch the last part as their new class starts pouring in through the door. They still nod and smile as the principal takes her leave. Was probably not important though.

Again, Aofil’s been through worse.


	3. Persuading a ball into a square hole

"And there it is, monsters and humans. The first day of the construction of the first monster city on the Surface has began on this cloudless day. The air around here is tense with expectations as the first brick is laid.”

A loud cheer bursts violently from the radio and Aofil gasps as it almost blows their ear off.

“Just listen to that crowd!”

Aofil rubs their face while being careful not to get any fur onto it while waiting for the cheer to die down. This again? Are they being serious right now? It’s the same reporter as well. It's been years!

“The city will of course be open for any human that wishes to move in,” the radio continues with an endless excitement. The crowd doesn’t seem to be dying down, and as Aofil realizes that it’s actually increasing in strength, they reach for the volume dial. “A sea of different shapes, both human and monster alike, stand before me eagerly waiting for the announcement,” the reporter almost has to scream into his microphone. “You, sir, what are your thoughts on this?”

“YOU SEE!”

The radio shuts off as Aofil throws their closed fist at it. Their knuckles connect with the dial, and the voice trails off as the radio bounces off the wall. It wobbles as it lands back on their nightstand, and falls face down, on the dial again.

“I, THE GREAT!”

Aofil slaps the backside, shutting the radio off a second time. They hover their hand over the radio for a second, just to be sure it did the trick. It stays silent, and Aofil tilts it back up. They sigh, guess they’re awake now. Or are they? They carefully lift the radio to check the time. Yup, they are, they have to be. They swing their legs over their bed and push off with their hands.

Aofil yawns and stretches their arms up. The crick of their back, and the subsequent worried exhale bounces around their living room as they near their kitchen. They give their back a careful stretch, but it seems to be fine. While they massage the area they put in two slices of bread in their toaster and put on some coffee, before heading to the bathroom.

They wonder if they should refill their prescription today or after the presentation tomorrow. Depends how many pills they have left, really. Aofil picks up today’s newspaper from their doormat and folds it over their hand so that the headline stays hidden from them. They don’t have to look at it, they already know what it is if the radio is anything to go by.

Aofil can still read the comic on the back of the newspaper as they remount their electric razor. Not much fur today, which is always a good sign. Their eyes and cheeks feels normal as well. Could it be that today’s the day it recedes forever? Who knows? Aofil would love to, but for now they’ll just take one pill. It has sated worse days, but not as much as they thought it would yesterday. Their neighbor must’ve been doing some family magic bonding the night before yesterday to warrant the amount of fur Aofil had on their arm yesterday morning. What if it carries over to today though? And if so, how much?

Aofil rolls out another pill into their palm, and weigh their options in their head. Risk it today, or risk it tomorrow? The decision is made for them as the pill falls out of Aofil’s startled hand from the loud whistle their coffeepot makes to mark that the coffee is done. The pill misses the hairy newspaper and falls into the drain with a mocking bounce. Aofil quickly shuts off the faucet, but their pill has probably already been rinsed away.

“Well, shit.”

Aofil counts the pills left in the jar. Three left. If their suspicions prove correct, then they’re gonna need all three tomorrow, more if they’re unlucky. While twirling the almost empty pill jar between their fingers, Aofil calls their doctor. It goes to voice mail explaining that the doctor is off today for an important conference. Aofil smacks their forehead and mutter a curse. They can’t even get a refill today since their doctor is away.

Aofil’s fingers get caught in their wrinkled skin as a thought strikes them. What if the doctor is at- No. Aofil shakes that idea out of their head. No, that’s just stupid. If Aofil can fool their doctor it’s not one good enough to be invited to that big of an event. They leave a message saying that they need a refill on their prescription, preferably tomorrow. They hang up with a sigh and when they return to their bathroom Aofil puts back their pill bottle into the cabinet before heading for the shower.

The last match in the box flickers into a flame as Aofil drags it along the tinder. They put the empty box on top of the crumbled newspaper and add matches to their shopping list. The headline screaming about the new monster city being built crumbles as the flames reaches it.

Aofil pours a cup of their coffee and fetches their toast. A couple of layers of condiments later they eat it while leaning against their countertop. They glimpse outside to check the weather. Ominously cloudy. A flash of lightning illuminates their apartment, and a couple of seconds later the strike of thunder shakes their cup. Yup, definitely ominous.

On their way down they pretend to not see their neighbor locking her door with her claw, nor do they hold the door for her. Why would they? Aofil’s in a hurry, and waiting over ten seconds while holding a door is just awkward for both parties. Besides, it would drag in a lot of rain.

Aofil cups their umbrella handle underneath their armpit while they fumble with their headphones. They nimbly dodge a monster mother with a small child flying hand in hand underneath a magical umbrella. A small trail of steam shows where they’ve been. The two monsters came from the subway, where Aofil’s headed.

The train arrives just as Aofil reaches the platform. They look at the large clock hanging from the ceiling. Nice, they caught an early train, means they can take another ten minutes going through that information Tylior promised to print out.

The doors open, and both human and monsters torrent out from the cars. Aofil can hear talk about the monster city, but it’s drowned out as they increase the volume of their music. Once inside they take a seat next to some humans. After a couple of stations the humans are replaced by some monsters. Two red, one kinda orange. Aofil shifts their eyes to the window. They see the reflections of the monsters for a bit as the subway car passes through a tunnel.

Once outside the reflections become less visible as the outside becomes brighter. Not too much brighter since it’s still pouring like a waterfall, but still brighter than the tunnel. A bright neon sign forces them to narrow their eyes from the jarring increase in light. A long purple leg welcomes any and all darlings into the biggest MTT branded store this side of town.

The store disappears just as quickly as it arrived from Aofil’s vision as the subway enters another tunnel. The orange monster in the returning reflection are up in arms about their arms, and fingers. The orange monster pats a small horn on one of its fingers carefully, and immediately retracts their hand from it while breathing through their teeth. Its friends all stare at the horn with awe. One of the monsters meets Aofil’s eyes in the reflection, and Aofil lets their eyes wander away.

The subway car slows down at Aofil’s stop less graciously as it normally does, and the orange monsters falls over his friends. Aofil leaves the group struggling to not prick themselves on the orange one’s horns, and unfold their umbrella once they reach surface level.

“Morning.”

Aofil takes the outstretched coffee cup. “Morning.”

A couple of stapled papers lands in front of them as they take a seat in the teacher's lounge. Aofil nods to Tylior, who nods back. “Nice weather we’re having,” he sarcastically states with a sigh and a small grunt as he sits down across from Aofil.

Aofil’s ear catches the tone of Tylior’s voice. They raise a playful eyebrow at him. “You make it sound like it’s my fault.”

Tylior leans out his leg from underneath the table. Everything up to his knee is soaking wet and dripping. “If it was then could you dry this please?”

“Oh.” Aofil offers their condolences. “Car?”

Tylior tries to dry as much water off as possible with a couple of napkins. “Nope.” His leg doesn’t get any drier, even though the napkins soak up as much as they possibly can. After ten napkins he gives up with an annoyed sigh. He throws the napkins into the trash where they land with a loud squish. “Monster, actually.”

“Monster?” Aofil repeats with their focus now bent away from the papers given to them. “Like, did it piss on you or something? If it did then you might need to call the news.”

Tylior’s unamused expression doesn’t stop Aofil, not in the slightest.

“You know,” Aofil continues, “since they don’t usually do it.”

“Yes!” Tylior interrupts with a grunt. “I know they don’t,” he starts collecting his things, “but since you have this waterproof theory,” he fakes a monotone laugh, “I’ll just take my leave.”

Aofil reaches for him as he passes, “Tylior,” but he turns his head with a smile. Aofil takes the stack of papers and smack him on his back. "Screw you for scaring me like that!" Tylior laughs it off and Aofil joins him as Tylior exits the teacher’s lounge. Aofil rolls out a handful of paper towels and dry the small puddles Tylior left behind with their foot. The towels also land with a squish in the garbage can.

Aofil returns to the papers. More bullet points about some small reforms regarding administrative systems, upcoming standardized test, and at last, the sponsored lecture tomorrow. Aofil’s mouth twists into a frown when their suspicions turns out to be correct.

Monster lecture, that’s what they’re gonna hold. Apparently it’s pretty important as well? Why didn’t the principal say that?

Aofil blows their lips. Fantastic.

Well, good thing they saved the pills, they’re definitely gonna need them all tomorrow. Aofil rubs their forehead, why didn’t they decline the offer? They knew from the beginning that it was gonna be monsters, why did they try and convince themselves otherwise? Dammit.

Maybe it’s not too late to back out? Aofil looks at the clock, they still have a bit of time left before their next class starts. They drink the last of their coffee and head up to the principal’s office.

After three knocks they’re invited in. “Hello, Aofil.”

Aofil closes the door behind them, “Hey,” and takes a seat. “Listen, I think I’m gonna need to pass on that lecture tomorrow. I just don’t think I might be the best one to hold it considering my allergy. I don’t have time to refill my prescription, and unless we do it with me in another building then I don’t think this will work out.”

The principal finishes off some work on their computer before meeting Aofil’s eyes. “Aofil, I know you’re not allergic to magic, I know the truth.”

Aofil’s entire body tenses. Their eyes dart around the principal’s face, but they find no sign of them lying. Aofil looks down, and puts their hand over their shaking lips. “How do you mean?” they ask with fear blossoming from every syllable.

“When you applied here, Aofil, I did some research, as is standard for all employment regarding children. Some medical records fell into my lap, and what caught my eye was the one from your psychiatrist. The pills you’re taking aren’t for monster allergy, but for anger issues. I came in contact with your doctor, and they told me you were in stable condition, and that your illness wouldn’t affect your work. I took her word for it, and from what I’ve seen, I made the right choice.”

Aofil is still tense, despite it being not as worse as they thought it would be.

“Which is why I didn’t bring it up with you. You probably thought that admitting to having anger management issues might’ve cost you your job, and in a sense you were correct to think that, Aofil. I looked the other way and went along with your explanation because you excel at what you do, and you have proven to be able to keep your anger under control. The few times you’ve cracked is when others would’ve as well. Despite you lying to my face, I still trust you, because I know why you did it. You are an excellent teacher, Aofil, and I’m glad to have you as my employee. I preface this because I want you to be open to what I’m about to inform you about. I trust you, so could you please trust me?”

The principal waits for Aofil to nod before taking out a folder from a binder. She searches some documents before pulling one out and flipping it to Aofil. “Here.”

Aofil stares at the symbol on the top right of the document.

The Delta Rune.

“Read it, Aofil,” the principal asks carefully as Aofil’s skin drains of color. “I’ll ask Julie to fill in for you now, because this is important. Please, read it.”

Aofil skims the headline. “Why this high school?”

“Because our students scored remarkably well on the last government test.” The principal digs out another document from the folder. “Or, to be specific, your students did. From what I could gather the scores were sent anonymously to the monsters along with the inspection for the teacher responsible for the class. I’m not saying you were solely responsible, everyone here put in a damn good score, but you tipped us over the edge, so to speak.”

“So the lecture tomorrow is a test?” Aofil asks almost accusingly.

“Yes, it is, and that’s why I want you on it, Aofil. I asked the others as well and they said that you would be the best, if only I could convince you. So, here we are.”

“And you couldn’t have told me this yesterday?”

“No, because I got the information this morning, just like you. I thought at first that it would be a human lecture sponsored by the monsters, not a monster lecture altogether. Everyone else told me it should be you, Aofil, and I’m inclined to agree with them.”

Underneath the Delta Rune is paragraph after paragraph of congratulatory language about how through this new chapter in human and monster cooperation the future of both species will shine brighter than ever. A cooperation that will see the connection between monsters and humans grow beyond what it was before the Barrier.

A school for both human and monsters, where the curriculum will embrace both magic, and science, and the overlaps they share. This school is to present what it’s made of in front of a monster committee, because it has proven for the humans that it is of the highest quality.

The future is shaped by the joint forces between human and monster, and this is an opportunity to spearhead the world into a new era of prosper.

The principal nods sheepishly to Aofil’s perplexed reaction after they finish reading the document. “Yeah, I know, the language is very, um,” the principal scratches her nose, “grandiose, but I can assure you that they’re very serious about this. I guess they wrote it like this to take the edge off a bit, but as you just read,” the principals shakes her hand, “it didn’t really work.”

“What is it you want, exactly?”

The principal straightens her back. “I don’t want you to be left behind, Aofil. I know that your history with the monsters is a bit tense, but the ones that killed your family isn’t the entire monster species. You don’t have to tell me who they were, but you do have to recognize that the monsters are here for good, and that they want good. I was very skeptical as well of them, especially after the trial.”

The principal leans down her chin on her knuckles. “I remember being furious about how they got off so lightly after having murdered six kids. Six kids! There was also this mumbo jumbo excuse of a curse that I was just baffled about, but then again, I wasn’t really comfortable with knowing that magic existed at that time. I guess you thought the same, Aofil?”

Aofil folds their arms over each other, and their eyes wander downward. “Yeah,” they agree without emoting.

“I don’t know how they did it. Their king must have a tongue made out of gold.” The principal scoffs. “I guess both his tongue and pockets to be completely honest with you. Anyway, I was very much fuming over how easily they just walked out seemingly without any form of punishment. I’m sure that things were settled behind the doors, but I didn’t see anything.”

“The riot?”

The principal hangs her head in shame. “I admit I was rooting for them a bit in the beginning, and whatever that king and queen said seemed to only fuel the fire. But then it got to a point, where I think that I realized that we used to live together before. We used to have peace in between us, and the threat that caused the war isn’t really that relevant now. I mean, we have guns now, and the monsters have showed that they’re actively working on protocol to make sure that one of those supposed god forms can never happen, and they’ve shown progress for that.”

“So just all your suspicions about them just,” Aofil flutters with their fingers, “vanished?”

“Not vanished, more like, understood and accepted. Yes, they are forcing some smiles because they know they’re much weaker than us. Yes, there is still tension between us. Like what happened with your-” The principal catches her tongue in the last second. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Aofil assures with a calming hand.

The principal nods. “Thanks. Like I said, there is still a lot of bumps that have to be smoothed out, but I want it to happen, and I believe it can happen. They’re just as human as us, despite their appearances. Faults and all, and for me, not giving them hope is to not give humanity hope. That’s why I’m begging you to do the lecture, Aofil. Because I think that it might help you reach that point as well. You have your reasons for your feelings towards them, Aofil. I understand that, but this world will leave you behind if you don’t at least give them an honest chance. And that’s why I’m asking you to do this lecture, for you sake.”

Aofil picks up the document with the Delta Rune on it again. It’s stamped on the right side of the paper, whereas the stamp of the government is on the left side of it. Agreeing on this. They skim through the text again before pinching their forehead and sighing. “I’m gonna need today to prepare then,” Aofil gives back the document to the principal. “Because I won’t have time tomorrow because of the test.”

The principal nods. “Go home and prepare if you feel like it, Aofil.”

Aofil stands up and heads for the door as the principal collects the papers back into their folder. “Oh, and one more thing,” they halt Aofil at the door. “Thank you.”

Aofil nods without meeting the principal’s eyes, and close the door behind them.

The watery trail of Tylior shows that he’s holding a class at the moment, so Aofil isn’t gonna bother him. They go into the teacher’s lounge and pick up their umbrella.

It’s just as rainy as it was when they arrived. A crack of thunder manages to pierce Aofil’s headphones, but Aofil pays it no mind.

Once home they shake off their umbrella and clothing before unlocking their door. They hang up their backpack and jacket and head into the bathroom. They catch a glimpse of themselves in the mirror. A faint red glow stares back at them. Aofil opens their cabinet, but halts their hand. They close it again, and head into their shower.

They try to breathe calmly, but they feel their fist clench harder and harder with each passing second. The hot water splashing on their back doesn’t even out the tingling from their cheeks. Aofil strikes the wall next to them with their hand, almost cracking both the tile and their bones. A wave of pain is sent out from their arm, but the pain doesn’t help.

They throw open the cabinet and pour out another pill. Before they have time to swallow it a mouthful of sick swells up inside them. Aofil almost breaks their toilet lid, but they manage just in time to open it. Determination stains the bowl of their toilet, and Aofil flushes with an angry mutter. They rinse their mouth and swallow the pill.

Only two left.

Dammit.


	4. A worse past for a better tomorrow

A flash of lightning and the ensuing strike of thunder again shakes Aofil's coffee cup. They steady it, and while they’re at it with having their hand on the cup, they sample their coffee again, despite them just putting it down before the lightning struck. They feel like they need it now, what with their pounding headache kicking and screaming inside their skull. It draws power both from their struggle to condense a year’s worth of material into just two hours, and them feeling the fur on their arm stand upright. If it’s from the weather outside or their recent episode, they don’t know, and it’s not what they need right now.

It’s not what they need ever, as well. But hey, at least they’re branded for doing something good. Doesn’t help their headache or their mood, but it’s nice to think that it would.

And now they’re gonna help the ones that caused them to feel this way. That caused them to forever be cautious and aware of their own thoughts, lest the patch on their arm decides to spruce their anger up a bit with a few good dosages of determination. There’s probably a patch of white in their soul as well, but for some reason they haven’t really been eager to look at it these past years. For some reason they aren’t really clicking their heels with joy at the notion and or thought of looking at the broken piece inside them that’s the cause of all the hurt in their world.

And then some.

A thing that they can’t remove as well which is always a nice bonus. Magic and science has to be intertwined, right? A symbiosis, if you will. Aofil doesn’t, but it’s not like they have a say in the matter. Shaving doesn’t work, and trying to dig it out doesn’t work. It’s a part of them.

So, they ask themselves, is this symbiosis a parasitic or a cooperative one?

“Not a goddamn clue!” Aofil shouts and letting their voice bounce around their kitchen while they sweep up their cup into their hand dangerously quick. They take another mouthful and twirl their pen between their fingers. With the way the fur acts from day to day it would be classified as parasitic, judging by the way it causes them to act, but apparently determination is something that a soul wants, so it’s actually Aofil’s fault for not appreciating something that would make anyone else feel powerful.

It’s their soul that’s at fault, right? Broken and scarred like a clay pot after more than a meter of free fall. It’s their soul’s fault that they can’t use this supposed gift. A gift on a curse would cancel it out though, right? Guess it depends on the right type of gift, and this wasn’t the right type of gift. Aofil looks at their arm in disgust. Is it another curse then?

Aofil pokes it with their pencil. There’s no sign of the scar that they had after their failed excavation. It’s completely healed. A small sign of something positive, or a sign that they have no control over it?

Aofil sighs.

No, this isn’t the time to go down that path again, they have work to do. Aofil flips their pencil in their hand again. “Physics first!” they exclaim as they place their pencil against the paper.

Two thunder roars pass, but the paper is still as blank as it started, bar the upper right edge which is stained slightly by a drop of coffee that fell out during the first thunder strike. This situation is all too familiar to Aofil, and they hate that.

They roll their fur stained arm around to try and get some blood going, but it doesn’t really help. The paper stays blank. Aofil tries to massage out an idea from their head, but all they manage to extract is more annoyance and irritation. And a reminder of their headache.

Their headache, which again, is caused by the ones that it prevents Aofil from helping. So the more they think about it, the less it makes sense. They should just give it all a pass.

Well, they tried to, but it failed. They went into the principal’s office with the intention to skip it all, and they emerged having gobbled everything up instead. And here they thought that the principal was gullible for believing their pill story, but here Aofil are, trying to rub away the hurt that the principal insisted that they mantle.

But the principal didn’t know about that.

Aofil’s eyes shoot wide open. Or did she? Yes? No? OK, what if the principal knew? Did they try and set Aofil up? What if they didn’t know? Aofil grunts as their headache knocks on their skull again, they aren’t getting anywhere.

Why did they agree to this? It’s all just a wash, just like the weather outside. It’s pouring like the…

Aofil holds that thought, they won’t allow it another step. They’ve gone this long without thinking of the past, and they’d be damned if they surrender now. They’ve left that life behind, they had to. They saved everyone else’s memories, at the cost of their own. This new life was supposed to be Aofil’s drastic change! Yet still they’re constantly reminded. Why? It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t supposed to be shaving their arm every morning, and then burning it! They haven’t read the newspaper in ages, and the one in this city is written by actual journalists!

Aofil drags their hands over their face slowly. They should just pull off their finger and let the monsters scatter in fear, get it all done with.

Wait a second.

Aofil’s hand grips the pen again. They’ll start with some simpler stuff, nothing that would just be uncomfortable, to lead up to the finger popping off. A card trick? No, that wouldn’t sail. Just stick with magic including hands.

Aofil’s list grows, and so does their smile. They feel their cheeks tugging and their lips separate from each other. Yes, and then Aofil starts shaking their hands as if they were hurting.

“Let me see what’s wrong with them,” they say to themselves. Oh yes, it sounds just as good as in their head. Just a bit of stretching first, and then.

“Pop!”

Aofil chuckles to themselves as they picture the monsters running around in fear. Them looking horrified at their finger, like everything’s gone horribly wrong. The monster will think thrice before going back to their school afterwards.

Aofil holds up the paper and reads it back to themselves. Yeah, this looks good, really good. The monster will never think about setting their foot or whatever they have in their school again. Aofil’s eyes continue reading back their master plan.

But their smile fades.

No monsters means that the school will fall behind. Their colleagues, friends, it’s not just Aofil that’s at stake here. If they did this, then it would lead to them being hurt as well. No, Aofil can’t do this, they shouldn’t do this. It would lead to more of those monster deniers congregating, and worse, at their workplace. Worse? Would it really be worse?

It would mean no more risk of their curse blossoming if there was no monster for them to think about. It would mean that they could stop thinking about them, and stop being reminded all the goddamn time. They would finally have some peace of mind. They could move on, finally. Their downstairs neighbor’s contract runs out soon. It’s only a matter of time before their building becomes purely human again.

And then? Perhaps they could figure out a way to keep the monsters at their own city? They built it for that reason, right? They just need some persuasion. Aofil could probably lean on them if they wanted to. Pay them a visit, have some tea, and then perhaps change their minds while they’re at it. They would trust Aofil. After all they did, why wouldn’t they? How couldn’t they? They owe Aofil, they owe Aofil so much. They’re gullible, easily manipulated, and they hold a lot of power. So why not just give them a nudge in the right direction? Yes, humans and monsters have lived together for so long, but look at what we’ve accomplished while we were separated. Just a few words would be enough. Aofil has the potential to topple an entire kingdom. It would be so easy.

They just need to remind the monsters why the humans won.

The sky opens up wider and a wave of hard rain hits the window behind Aofil. They jump out of their chair, and feels that their breath has become agitated. Their heart is pounding, and there’s a bitter taste in their mouth. Aofil’s grunts as they touch their cheek with a finger.

It’s hot.

Dammit, what the hell are they doing? How old are they? Twelve? They can’t do this, it’s childish. They would sabotage the future of Tylior, Julie, heck, everyone, if they were to do this. Kneecap everything good that has happened, just because they can’t focus right now? Why did they even think it was a good idea?

Well, Aofil knows the answer, but it doesn’t really cheer them up. They made the right choice in taking another pill, otherwise they would’ve probably gone to bed dedicated to go through with this. They should probably take another one, but that would leave only one left for tomorrow, and they’re pretty sure they would need two even without the presentation. They’re already at least one pill short for tomorrow, they can’t compromise any further. Aofil crumples the scribbled paper in their hand.

They toss it inside their fireplace and grab the sealed package of matches. They unwrap the plastic and take out a match. They place it against the tinder.

But they hesitate.

“No!” they force out while at the same time flicking the match. The sparks run along the top of the match for a second before igniting and summoning a bright flame. The color is different. It looks familiar though, like it was made with magic.

Aofil throws the match onto the crumbled paper, which burns a more normal color, and flips the match case over.

“To commemorate the building of Monster City, a component has been added to make the fire a bit more magical,” the back of the box states proudly. Aofil bounces it in their hand for a while before throwing it in the fire as well.

They return to the table and sit down with a deep sigh. The pill is starting to calm them down now, good. Shouldn’t be that difficult now.

“Aofil?” Tylior tries while tapping his pen on the cup he brought Aofil loudly, and without rhythm.

Aofil lifts their head up from their pillow made of arms and tries to blink away the tired. It doesn’t work. They sink back down again with a sound somewhere between a mutter and a snore.

Tylior smacks his pen on Aofil’s head. “No,” Aofil responds after a couple of seconds. Tylior gives Aofil another smack, this time on their exposed hand. Aofil instinctively drags it away, but it falls back down once the tiredness flows back into it.

“How did you even manage to get off at the right subway station, Aofil? I’ve seen more awake people under the sand at an archaeology dig site.”

Aofil fumbles for the cup of coffee with a couple of unglamarous and uncoordinated taps on the table. Tylior scoots the cup closer with his pen. “Thanks,” Aofil says with their head still in their one armed pillow. They brings the coffee closer and drink it.

With a painful cough Aofil lunges out of their chair and bolt for the closest sink. They spit the coffee out and rinse their mouth as fast as they can. “What the hell is this coffee?”

Tylior shoots Aofil a knowing wink. “It got you up, didn’t it?”

Aofil leers at Tylior from behind the stream of water flowing from the faucet. Their mouth is full of water so they can’t answer, but their piercing gaze tells Tylior everything he needs to know.

He bows his head, “You’re welcome,” and tilts his hand towards Aofil.

With their stomach full of water and their mouth almost completely rinsed of water Aofil returns to the table and their chair opposite of Tylior. “Not gonna thank you.”

“Long night with the presentation?” Tylior pries while drinking some coffee of his own. He enjoys it a bit too loudly for Aofil’s taste. “You’re usually a bit more spiffy than this in the mornings, and the presentation is all I can think of right now. Well, that and how good this coffee is.” Tylior takes another sip and closes his eyes in enjoyment. “Ah, fantastic.”

Aofil holds out their empty cup and Tylior pours some of his into it. “Yeah, long night. Was a bit harder than I expected, but I think I got it under control.”

The jar of just a single pill in their pocket would like to say otherwise, but it’s the best Aofil can do at the moment. Their doctor didn’t come back today, so it’s gonna be a couple of interesting hours later at the presentation.

Interesting is the last thing Aofil wants it to be.

They pat the folder next to them on the table. “Got everything here.”

“It looks a bit thin,” Tylior comments while reaching for it. Aofil snatches it away violently.

“Then please don’t touch it, otherwise you’ll break it,” Aofil explains while waving it back and forth.

Tylior nods. “OK then."

They sit both in silence for a couple of minutes before Tylior notices the clock. He motions for it with a nod. “Test soon.”

Aofil returns the nod. “Yeah, brilliant,” they mutter before downing the rest of their coffee.

“You have your pills with you, Aof?” Tylior taps his throat. “Your voice.”

“Yeah,” Aofil nods again, this time slower, “I got it with me. I’ll take another one before the test.”

Tylior leans forwards. “Take it now.”

“Tylior,” Aofil replies, “I’ll take it, don’t worry.”

Their voice is getting rougher by the word, they can hear it themselves. Nothing they can do about it though, they need it later more than they need it now. Tylior doesn’t seem convinced though. He opens his mouth to speak, and despite Aofil’s hand trying to stop him, he continues. “The presentation is just a presentation, Aofil. This test is important, even for you. I don’t want you to have lesser pay next year because your students failed.”

“Why would it matter now that I’m angry?” Aofil responds with a throw of their hand. “They’ve already studied for it, and their grades aren’t gonna change if I look a bit tired.”

“There’s an inspector this year,” Tylior reveals. “Nothing official, but I saw someone that blended in here as well as, well, a government official at a high school.”

“I’ll be fine,” Aofil growls.

“I don’t believe you, Aof, and you’ve said that my judgment is valued higher than yours when you are like this. Every time with this.”

With an annoyed grunt Aofil takes out their pill jar and pop it open. They throw the pill into their open hand and show it to Tylior. “Only one left, and I need that one for the presentation! It’s not really a choice!”

Tylior’s brow furrows. “Why?”

Aofil curls their fingers around the pill. “Because...” They throw it back into the jar and close the lid.

Tylior’s waits patiently for a continuation that never comes. He leans over the table and clamps his hands together slowly. “I thought you cared more about humans than you did monsters, Aofil.”

Aofil’s just a smidge away from calling Tylior out on that, but they know it’s what he wants. Tylior knows how to play Aofil, but he’d never do it out of malice, just to show Aofil how far they are, and that they need to back down.

But not now.

He can’t know, no one can. The principal knowing is already far too many along with their doctor, who probably saw through Aofil’s lie from the very start.

“Aofil?” Tylior tries again with a snap of his fingers in front of Aofil’s face. “You still with me? Monsters in your head?”

Aofil ignores the joke. “That’s why I’m saving it for them, and not my students. I know my students, but I have no clue who the monsters are gonna be. I’ll be fine, Tylior. Just trust me on this, please. I’m already on the brink of losing it. I was up all night and morning with this. I didn’t get any sleep whatsoever. I’ll manage the presentation, but I need my medication for me to not break the pointer over my knee.”

Tylior looks at Aofil who meets his eyes with theirs. They know he’s searching for the smallest crack in Aofil’s already thin facade. He cares, he’s a good friend.

But not now!

This one time he has to trust Aofil, or not care. Either way, Aofil needs to hold their mask.

Tylior catches the clock again. “If you say so, Aofil,” he smiles out with a nod. He leaves with a pat on Aofil’s shoulder. “Good luck, with both things.”

“Thanks, I really mean it.”

Aofil sits alone with their thoughts for another while. The jar in their pocket presses uncomfortably against their leg so they pull it out again. They place it on the table, and they’re surprised that it doesn’t bend it. It weighed much more inside their pocket.

Aofil flicks the top and it falls over. Nope, table is still intact. They give the container a spin and watch it slow down as, in their own words, there’s a difference in velocity between the two objects. Eventually the jar slows down to a halt, and the pill inside just a couple of seconds afterwards.

The lid points to the empty chair opposite of Aofil, and the pill does too.

Aofil pockets the pill jar again and collects their things. As they leave the teacher’s lounge they look back at the table.

They shake their head. No, it couldn’t have been magic. The monsters aren’t here yet, it’s too early.

Their gaze floats up to the chair. It hangs for a while as their mind races.

Again they shake their head. No, that would be far worse.

Please, don’t let it be his.


	5. Presentation is in session

How?

Aofil clenches their fist to try and contain the warm feeling their arm is sending out. It helps a bit, but only the tiniest of bits. Their nails dig into their palm, but they don’t feel their skin burst.

Not yet, anyway.

They reorient their smile and return their eyes to overseeing their class again. Two dozen heads and necks are bent down, silently scribbling away at their test. It’s been like a looming cloud over their heads for a while now, but Aofil’s sure they’ll be fine. Aofil’s done their best to prepare their class for it, shouldn’t be a problem. They let a bit of pride wash over them. If anything just to try and dampen their determination building up. It seems to be working as the fur underneath their button shirt relaxes, as does Aofil’s fist. They run their thumb over their palm. Yup, there’s definitely some indents from their nails, but no blood.

They still take a swig of water to quell their stomach, just in case.

The government official in the back writes a couple of lines in his notebook before returning to his previous position with his arms crossed and leaning back in his chair. He’s surveying the class as much as Aofil is, if not more. Aofil couldn’t tell if he’s surveying them as well, but apparently he is. They don’t recognize him, which is a good sign. Pretty sure he doesn’t recognize Aofil either. Hopefully he’s only here for the test. If he’s here for the monster presentation that could pose a problem.

What kind of problem? Aofil doesn’t know yet, but there sure that it would be one. All their interactions with any and all government people thus far has been nothing but problems. Aofil’s sure that they had their reason for what they did, and again, they know what those reasons were, but, they still remember how it felt when one woke them up at the hospital after their fight with…

Aofil sighs, another close call. Another stinging wave shoots out from their arm, and this time they barely manage to keep it quiet. Their fingernails finds their previous dents in their skin, and again it feels like it’s about to burst. It takes a minute or so for it to dial itself back, and Aofil sighs with relief.

A suspicious movement catches the corner of Aofil’s eye, but it was only a student readjusting themselves in their seat. Aofil hangs their look on them for a couple of seconds though, to try and spot something else she might’ve been doing. No cheating this time though, it seems. They meet the official’s eyes, and he nods before striking a line in his notebook.

How serious is this test, really? Yes, it is a standardized one, but it appears to be the most standardized one in ages. Strange, very strange. Aofil wonders if they should confront the official about it, but their thoughts are interrupted as a small wave of sick is sent up from their stomach. They mange to contain it though, but they feel their face contort from it. A couple of students react, but Aofil motions for them to get back to their test. The official writes something down in his notebook as Aofil takes another mouthful of water.

They roll their eyes, great.

“Time’s up, pen’s down. Good work everyone!” Aofil congratulates. “Just hand these in and then gossip about the answers like you usually do outside. Hindsight is twenty twenty, but your eyes are in front of you, not behind you, unfortunately.”

The official makes another note, and Aofil grumbles. Don't he dare steal that one.

The papers are handed in with various amount of trembling. For some the papers weigh like a brick, for others a feather. Standard procedure, for a standardized test.

“You got a minute?” the official asks while leaning a bit too close for Aofil’s liking. His eyes dart for a second to Aofil’s desk, but he quickly returns them to Aofil. “Just need you to sign here.”

Aofil takes the document and reads through it.

“Just a formality.”

“As they always are,” Aofil adds in their head. The document just states that the signer acknowledges that the notes from the official will be used along with the test results for future revisions of said test and other school related improvements. Aofil signs their name and hands the paper back to the official who thanks Aofil while pushing together the tests. He opens his briefcase and fastens the pile of papers together with an unusually large paper clip along with the document Aofil just signed. He bids Aofil farewell and heads out with a couple of long steps.

Aofil takes their cup of water to refill it, but their hand hits something else.

An apple? Yeah, sure looks like it. But where did it come from?

Aofil shrugs, one of their students must’ve forgotten it. They leave their classroom door slightly ajar for the student to pick it up later and head down to the teacher’s lounge. They sit down in their chair and flip open their folder with the presentation material. Aofil’s deep down with reading it when Tylior sinks down on the opposite side of the table.

“Did you have the official at your place?” he asks with his fingers together on his stomach.

Aofil looks up from their notes about biology. “What do you mean ‘the’? Was the only one? Didn’t you have someone there?”

Tylior shakes his head. “Nope.”

Dammit! The official did know! Was this another one of their tests before the presentation? To see how honest Aofil was? Aofil berates themselves for not confronting the official. They should've trusted their gut feeling.

“I mean, I had a suit and tie sitting at the end of the classroom, but she wasn’t really that official. She even waved away one of my student’s phone ringing. Yours looked quite stoic and emotionless, like a statue of someone who didn’t have any sleep before modeling,” Tylior explains while pouring himself some water and fetching a fruit. “You want anything?”

Gut feeling, eh? So much for that.

Aofil motions for whatever. “Doesn’t matter.”

A pear comes flying their way and they catch it with two hands. Tylior grabs himself a banana and peels it. Aofil furrows their brow. “I had you for a pear guy. What’s with the banana?”

“Hm?” Tylior asks with his mouth full. He swallows and drinks some water before answering. “How hard do you think banana pie is to make?”

“Um,” Aofil is slightly taken back by the question, “I don’t know? Shouldn’t be that difficult if you follow a recipe.”

Tylior spins the banana in his hand before taking another bite. “I see.”

Aofil bring the pear slowly to their nose. They sniff it, but it seems fine. They taste it, but it’s still fine. Tylior is too busy contemplating about the banana peel hanging from his hand to notice what Aofil’s doing.

“I’m off to my next class,” Aofil notifies to Tylior as they spot the hour.

Tylior nods without turning his head. Aofil’s pretty sure he didn’t hear. Whatever, maybe he’s hungry?

“Half an hour left,” the principal advises to Aofil. Aofil closes the final blind to shut out the setting sun. They motion for the principal to switch on the light before finally closing the blind completely. Outside the classroom comes some soft talking with various sounding voices. The principal is visibly both excited and nervous. Her hand on the door frame shakes a bit. Aofil’s is as well, but not for the same reason. The pill jar is firm within their grasp. They were just about to take it before the principal barged in, but now the principal’s head is smiling and waiting eagerly for an answer. She enters with a cup that she places next to Aofil’s stack of papers.

Aofil clears their throat to loosen up some determination that they then swallow. It taste very bitter. “Yeah, sure.” They can hear it not sounding nearly as normal as they wanted it to be, and the principal catches the tone. She drum her fingers on the door before nodding with another smile.

“Just,” she search for the right words in her head, “think of it as a carnival of sorts.”

Aofil shakes their head slowly.

“Or,” the principal clears her throat, “something.”

“You’re very excited for this.”

It takes a couple of awkward seconds for the principal to realize that she's standing at Aofil’s desk for no reason. With a sheepish smile and nod she closes the door behind them. Aofil swallows the last pill quickly before anyone else has time to enter again. They wash it down with some water from their cup, and swirls their chair around so that they face their blackboard.

It’s empty, for now. Hopefully Aofil can spend the majority of the presentation with their face against it, and not the crowd. Minimize the contact with the monsters, that’s priority number one. The less magic they expose themselves to, the lesser the chance that they’ll have an episode. They do have a backup plan if things go badly, but that would only seem good to them when they’re already too far gone.

They glance at the clock next to the door.

Twenty minutes left. Aofil returns their nose to their folder. They tap it with their pen as they read it, but they can’t shake away their throat feeling somewhat dry after only a couple of minutes of reading. Must be their medication. Aofil reaches for their cup and bring it up to their mouth. After a long sip they halt the cup on their lips as they notice the taste.

That there actually is a taste.

They remove the cup from their mouth and stare at the liquid inside horrified. No, is it really- But how didn’t they smell it? They do now though. Was it the bitterness from the determination? Doesn’t matter now, they’ve already drunk some.

Shit!

Aofil dries off the tango on their lips quickly, and bolt for the door. They throw it open a bit too quickly, and it silences the commotion outside. Their eyes ignore the various forms of monsters around them, but they can’t ignore the plate in front of them.

Aofil puts up their hand to politely decline. “No, thank you,” they forcibly smile. Their stomach rumbles, and the plate in front of them is offered a second time with a cheeky bounce. This time Aofil manages to ignore it. They lock eyes with the principal and beckons them back into the classroom. Harshly.

“What,” Aofil quells a wave of sick, “what did you give me?”

The principal looks a bit worried over Aofil’s tone of voice and heavy breathing. “Some tea the monsters offered, I thought it would calm your nerves. It did it for me.”

Aofil sits down in their chair and clamps their hands together to regain focus. They lean on them to not have it look too suspicious.

“I’m gonna need another fifteen minutes to prepare,” they say very carefully. “Can you stall?”

The principal approaches Aofil carefully. “Are you alright?”

Aofil stops them before they manage to put an arm around Aofil’s shoulder. “Fifteen minutes, yes or no?”

The principal nods. “Yes. Don’t worry. You sure you’re feeling alright?”

“Magical allergy.”

“Ah,” the principal nods again, genuine this time, and heads out the door. “The presentation is gonna need a bit more time to prepare, so let’s start with the tour now. Please, follow me,” Aofil hears through the door.

Once they’re sure that the others won’t hear they head for the classroom sink and drink until they almost drown. Diluting the Golden Flower tea is the next best thing they can do. Getting it out of their system is the best thing, but forcibly vomiting is gonna leave them worse, and their throat burned.

The lesser of two evils, again. Aofil spits out some determination and flushes it away.

Just like always.

Aofil pokes at their cheeks, they’re starting to get hotter. They sigh, and pray that the pill they took was wrongly produced with at least twice the strength.

Stupid to think that? Yes, but it’s the same level of stupid that got them into this to begin with, so not all hope is lost.

Not yet.

As the door opens and a torrent of differently colored and shaped monsters enter the classroom hope seems to be fading rather quickly. Aofil recognizes a couple of them, hopefully not the other way around will happen as well.

After some time, as the more oddly shaped monsters finally manage to squeeze into the chairs, Aofil takes one last moment to prepare themselves. Their cheeks are tingling with heat. As long as their eyes stay somewhat normal it won’t bring up any suspicion. Right now it’s only their behavior that might cause suspicion.

Only…

Aofil waits for the commotion to reach silence before they stand up slowly. They drink some water to clear their throat, and as the monsters lean in closer, Aofil opens their mouth. “Welcome!” They immediately close it as they hear the snarl in their voice. They drink some more water and try again. “Welcome.”

It’s not much better, but it’ll have to do.

“You see, us humans have a bit of a different view on the world,” Aofil starts, “we didn’t use magic to deduce the world around us. We didn’t use our souls to interact with the forces that govern our planet, our universe, and that govern us. But, our world view is similar, despite our differences.”

Aofil turns around and draws a monster and a human on the blackboard. “Whereas you are made out of magic,” Aofil adds some squiggly line and sparks inside the monster, “you observe the world through magic,” and does the same outside the monster. “Whereas us humans are made out of science,” Aofil makes a small model of an atom inside the human, “we observe the world through science,” and does the same outside the human.

Their arm halts as they feel the room fill with excitement, magical excitement. They flex their cheeks to try and contain the increasing stinging coming from them. They have to contain themselves for longer than comfortable, and they can hear some whispers before they continue.

“So,” Aofil begins again, still with their face towards the blackboard, “what we’re gonna do this evening is to explore the world of science. From the smallest atom to the infinity of the universe. We’re,” Aofil takes another mouthful of water to quell the growing rumbling inside them. It lessens it, but not by much, “we’re gonna start by learning about the fundamentals. The forces that act upon us, and that we can act upon.”

Aofil turns around to meet the monsters. “Who can tell me the fundamental forces of the universe?”

Their smile is not perfect, they can feel it themselves. It’s a bit crooked, but Aofil does their best to lean into it to make it at least somewhat natural. Their fur stained arm is pulsating slowly, sending out small waves of determination throughout Aofil.

A three fingered hand is raised. “Yes!” Aofil points, also a bit too forced.

The monster hesitates a second before answering. “Gravity?”

“Gravity is one of the forces, that is correct,” Aofil nods. “Anyone else?”

Two hands are raised. Aofil points to the one that was raised first. Both hands are lowered, as they’re attached to the same dark green monster. “Soul strength?”

“That would be magic, I’m afraid,” Aofil searches their head for something constructive to say. It’s hard to navigate through the haze that’s building up, but they somehow find something. “Although, there are the forces that hold together the atoms that we’re all made out of. The souls of matter, if you will.”

The monster nods in agreement and sits down again satisfied.

“Why does he look so smug about it though?” Aofil thinks. He was completely wrong. Not only that, but this entire lecture is about science, not magic. Didn’t anyone tell the monsters beforehand? One would think so, right? That they wouldn’t give magical answers to scientifical questions? Some effort would be appreciated. Aofil’s standing here feeling their determination build up more and more every second, the least the monsters could do is try?

A mitten covered hand is raised. Aofil acknowledges it with a nod only.

“Is lightning a fundamental force? I remember it being a lot inside the CORE.”

“No,” Aofil mutters underneath their breath, “that isn’t magic!”

Why can’t they understand?! This isn’t about them. It has nothing to do with magic. It’s about how the humans see the world, and how they will in a bit. Not if they continue to make everything about magic though! Aofil feels a smile grow on their lips.

Oh yeah, they will.

The monsters know the answers, they’re just scared to say them. They know that they can’t win, yet they desperately struggle. The monsters want to come back to the Surface? Then they’ll better hurry up and accept what’s around them!

No magic.

No souls.

Souls?

Aofil looks at their reflection in the water inside their cup.

Red.

They look up to the monsters in front of them. They want to tell them all to go back to the Underground. It’s what’s screaming inside their head. Aofil looks over to the principal, who’s hand is curled up on their lips, scared. Aofil can’t go on much longer. The haze have already clouded their mind, it’s only a matter of time before they’re lost in it.

They need to pull the plug. Or to be more precise, their finger.

They position their hands next to each other, and with a twist and a jerk, they summon their illusion. They hold their pulled of thumb for all to see, and wait for the panic to ensue. Their last way out.

“I’ve seen that one before. It’s a good one!” applauds a monster. It croaks as it applauds. “Is this a fundamental force? Human magic?”

No! Why isn’t it working? It was Aofil’s last resort! Didn’t the monsters believe in magic just a second ago? Was Aofil wrong?

A wave surges over them, almost drowning them and sweeping them out into the dark sea that’s their curse. They have to figure out something quickly.

Aofil looks at their arm. Their pulsating arm, with the fur standing stiff against their shirt. They try and calm it with their other arm, but the fur fights back. It pushes against them.

Aofil raises their head. It’s a moronic idea, but they have no other.

“One of most important forces,” they begin as they walk to the side of the blackboard. The wall next to it is pure brickwork, “is force.” Aofil prepares themselves as best as they can. “One important rule to keep in mind is,” they raise they arm and lean back, “when you punch something,” they breath out one last time, “it punches back with equal force.”

The crack of their arm echoes throughout the room. The sick inside Aofil fades as it’s dragged away to their injured arm to heal. It hurts like something they’ve never felt before, but at least they can control it. They wipe away a pair of tears with their other hand, and then use it to suppress the shaking of their other arm.

They turn around to their crowd. “Any questions?”

The stunned silence produces only furrowed brows and faces that are both impressed and horrified at the same time. The principal’s eyes scream bloody murder, but Aofil tries to calm them with a controlled nod.

“So,” Aofil swallows some pain, “how about we continue to chemistry?”


	6. Souls in blue

"So."

The principal taps the envelope on her knuckles as she searches for the right thing to say. Her face is conflicted in more ways than one. As tapping doesn't seem to work she resorts to flipping it over on its side and drumming it with her fingers.

Aofil takes the opportunity to try and wedge their fingers under the plastic casing holding their broken arm stiff and in place. They don’t quite reach the spot where their arm cracked, but they tug at their shirt nonetheless to try and suppress the itching.

It helps just a little bit.

It’s still pulsating uncomfortably warm. Both from waves of pain, and from waves of magic trying to heal the bone. It’s broken, no doubt about it, but it served its purpose. It dampened the determination flowing around them during the presentation.

They had to hold the rest of the presentation through gritted teeth, but they got through it. However well they did is in the envelope flipping through the principal’s thinking fingers with various amount of success. It doesn’t bother the principal though, since her mind is occupied elsewhere. She open her mouth, but closes it immediately afterwards.

Aofil glances at the clock on the principal’s desk. It’s an hour or two past dinner, and Aofil feels it. They felt it during the presentation. For as much irritation as it added, it didn’t really make a difference. Another layer to add to the already staggering amount of layers isn’t gonna make that huge of a difference, but now that it’s only one of few layers its screams are much more easier to hear.

No fruit or anything else edible is in the principal’s room. There’s a plate with a half eaten slice of pie on the desk, but it’s not edible. Maybe for the principal, but not for Aofil. Nor is the untouched plate of pie they were handed. The tea summoned enough of a relapse for the day, or week, or month. However long it’s been since the last one. This one was much more hurtful though. Both figuratively. Aofil tries to flex their fingers carefully, but to no avail. And literally.

The principal makes a final flair with her fingers and the envelope lands in between Aofil and her. “Considering everything that happened,” the principal stops, as if they’re having a hard time believing their own words that they’re about to say, “I think it went well, Aofil. Despite the,” she pauses again to inhale through her clenched teeth, “unorthodox,” she hangs on the word for a second, “methods you used, you still came through when you managed to relocate and follow your thread of thought.”

The principals eyes move to Aofil’s injured arm. “I even heard some of the monsters next to me whisper something about how they’ve never seen someone teach so visually. So you got that going for you.”

The principal smacks her lips. “They were a bit skeptical with the frozen pie that almost froze the lizard’s tongue off, and I’m not gonna lie and say that you’re not entirely innocent in that regard. You’re not entirely at fault though since they volunteered, and you couldn’t have known that they didn’t have any arms. In either case,” the principal produces a letter knife, “let’s see what they said.”

The Delta Rune holding the envelope together is undisturbed as the principal slices the top in two. She drags out the paper inside and read it quickly. There’s a smile on her lips, and Aofil feels a bit of calm wash over them.

They really needed that.

The principal’s smile fades. “Here,” she folds the paper and gives it to Aofil, “it’s better that you read it instead of hearing it.”

Aofil grabs it with their one functioning hand and open it back up.

“Congratulations!” the paper starts.

Always a good start.

“The monster council has deemed your performance as extraordinary barring some questionable decisions during the presentation. The sheer novelty and visual spectacle is something the council have never seen before, and that enough is grounds for continuation to the next step.”

Aofil raises an eyebrow. Next step?

“Unfortunately, the attitude during the presentation gave the council a cause for a second opinion. The chance is still open, but an extra laurel has to be earned to ensure that the supposed reason for the attitude was an isolated event, and can be controlled should the teacher advance further through the program.”

Aofil’s eyebrow is lowered, and turns furrowed along with the other one. Program?

“If the human test comes back with exceptional results, then an interview will be planned. This decision is final and not negotiable.”

Signed, the monster council of human scouting for teaching for the monsters, by the monsters.

Sure is a royal council with that kind of name.

“I don’t know what to say, Aofil. I think congratulations are in order, but I’d be lying if I said that a part of me wants you to stay. With that said, if you plan to pursue this career option then I won’t stand in your way. None of us will, but we’ll miss you.”

Aofil throws down the paper. This is the complete opposite of what they wanted to happen! Again they’re dragged closer when all they want is just to be left alone. This was supposed to be for the school, not them!

“Dammit,” Aofil mutters. They bury their forehead into their only functioning hand now that the other one is disabled because of the monsters. Again!

“God fucking dammit!” Aofil curses as they slam their hand into the principal’s desk.

“Aofil!” the principal interrupts Aofil’s growing anger with a snap of their fingers. “This is your chance to prove to yourself that you’re willing to change! The one chance you have to understand that the monsters aren’t monsters. That they’re flawed, yes, but that they mean good.”

“It’s not that,” Aofil sighs.

“Of course it’s that,” the principal scoffs at the notion that it isn’t. “It’s time to put the past where it belong, Aofil. You have this opportunity to take a step towards bettering yourself. I’ve been lenient with your hatred towards monsters, but I can’t be anymore. This is as far as I’m willing to give you. It’s your turn now to take the step. Not for me, not for the school, but for you. I don’t want to give you an ultimatum, but I’m going to push for this school to be one of the first to incorporate monsters and their proposed curriculum. This will happen with or without you, Aofil. I can’t hold everyone back just because one of my teachers have history. If push comes to shove,” the principal looks Aofil deep into their eyes, without blinking. The gaze is hard like diamond. The principal doesn’t have to say anything, Aofil gets it, but she opens her mouth anyway, “they’ll not be one of my teachers anymore.”

A minute of quiet hangs over the two like a thick blanket, bending both necks down in contemplation. The principal is the first to lift up her head. “I don’t like being the bad guy here, Aofil, but I’m the principal of the school, not over you.”

Aofil nods without lifting their head. “I get it.”

“Good,” the principal nods as well, “and good work on the presentation, Aofil. It was a good one, take pride in that you managed to win them over despite your allergy towards them.”

Aofil doesn’t join in with the principal’s chuckle.

“Go home and get yourself some dinner, Aofil. You’ve earned it.”

Aofil nods and stands up with intent for the door. They stop at it and turn their head around. “See you tomorrow.”

The principal returns a smile. “Until then, Aofil.”

“Excuse me!”

Aofil looks around for the voice that called them.

“Over here.”

A monster beckons for them. A light blue one, with scales that flow almost like hair. It stands a head or two taller than Aofil. Four arms move awkwardly as it tries to figure out the right words to say. It scratches its beak, and blinks with its four eyes. It’s a she, Aofil notices that very easily. It’s hard not to, judging by how taut her suit shirt is.

“This might be a bit silly, human, but are you a friend of Tylior?” she asks.

Aofil nods. “Yeah, I am.”

A pair of almost transparent wings extend from behind the monster with a soft snap. Aofil takes a step back in reflex.

“No, no, sorry.” The monster retracts her wings. “I didn’t mean to scare you, human,” the monster flusters as she gestures wildly with her hands. “Forgive me.”

Her voice sounds strangely desperate, but she recuperates as Aofil steps back where they were. She extends her hand with an innocent smile. “I’m Sevoltne, a pleasure to meet you.”

Aofil hesitates for a second before grabbing the hand. Her claws are gentle against their wrist, but they’re still sharp enough to be acknowledged. “Aofil.”

“Your presentation was really good, Aofil. Congratulations on passing. I was the one that proposed that your,” Sevoltne clears her throat, “attitude, was just a one time event.”

“Oh,” Aofil doesn’t really know how to react to that statement. “Thanks.” They try hard to make it not sound like a question.

Sevoltne’s four eyes close with a smile. “No need to thank me, I would’ve done it even if I didn’t already know about your illness.”

Aofil’s smile is sucked in. “My illness?”

“Oh, Tylior told me yesterday.”

Aofil’s brow furrows so hard that they have difficulty seeing.

Sevoltne puts a hand up to her beak to silence a small chuckle from her. “I should probably start from the beginning.” She motions for a nearby bench with her other three hands. Aofil sits down, despite them just barely seeing it through their brows.

“Yesterday morning I was hurrying along to work, and accidentally stomped in a deep water puddle. I say stomped because that’s how I run.”

Sevoltne taps her feet on the ground very clumsily. Aofil joins her chuckle despite not finding it funny. Their concern is overwhelming them.

“The stomp launched a wave of water that crashed over a human. He said that it was fine, but I felt really bad about it afterwards. I don’t know why, it was an accident.” She leans closer to Aofil with a hand next to her beak. Aofil leans away just enough for it to not be noticed. “I guess I caught a glimpse of his face,” she chuckles again.

“He is pretty proud of that stubble, yeah,” Aofil adds.

Sevoltne nods very ecstatically, and with a wink.

“Seeing as he turned into this building I came back around lunch and asked a human female if she’d seen anyone with a pair of drenched trousers.” Sevoltne taps her beak with a claw. “I think her name was Julie.”

Aofil nods.

“She pointed to a trail of wet footsteps,” Sevoltne continues with an ever growing smile, “and I followed them. I caught up to Tylior, and asked if there was anyway for me to repay him. It took a while for him to answer, but eventually he said that dinner is always nice.”

“A date?” Aofil asks, being careful to make it sound as pleasant as possible.

“It turned into one.”

An avalanche of worry falls over Aofil. “Oh.”

Sevoltne nods. “Yeah.”

The hair, and fur, on Aofil’s arm solidifies into spikes, burrowing into their arm, stinging like hot needles. They muster a smile, but it’s not genuine to them. “How nice.”

Sevoltne rolls her claws as she notices Aofil’s change in tone. “I’m sorry if I came to you with a bit too much information. Tylior’s tongue seems to loosen up after only a couple of drinks, and we had more than few. I’m surprised he came to work today.”

“Yeah, he,” Aofil pauses to exhale, “he can’t handle alcohol when he’s awake, but he can when he’s asleep. I’ve never figured it out.”

Sevoltne again puts her hand next to her beak. “I have my theories.”

“How do you mean?” Aofil asks unnaturally quick. Their eyes dart around Sevoltne’s face, but they can’t seem to catch her eyes. They’re off to the side, avoiding Aofil’s.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” comes a sudden whisper in Aofil’s other ear.

Aofil almost jumps out of their skin, causing Tylior to laugh loudly at their reaction. “Dammit, Tylior!” grumbles Aofil. “Aren’t you supposed to be home?”

“Got a call from Julie earlier this evening. She said that Sevoltne was here at your presentation, Aofil. So, knowing that it went well?” Tylior hangs a pair of questioning fingers on Aofil and Sevoltne until Sevoltne nods. “I looked up a recipe and tried my hand at baking something.”

The edge of Sevoltne’s wings poke Aofil before retracting in embarrassment. “Did you?”

Tylior nods. “Yes, banana pie.”

Sevoltne stands up quickly and clamps her hands together. “For me?”

Tylior glances down at Aofil. “For you as well. If you want, that is.”

Aofil lips curl together. “I’m fine.”

Sevoltne doesn’t pick up on their subtle huff, but Tylior does. It’s a sound all too familiar for him, Aofil knows that as well. “Sevoltne,” Tylior summons a calm smile, “where’s your bag?”

“Oh, I must’ve forgotten it in the classroom. Um, Aofil?”

“Two doors down, second door inside the corridor,” they answer without any emotion.

Sevoltne nods and gives Tylior a peck on his cheek as she passes him. Tylior sits down with Aofil when he hears the door close behind him. He meets Aofil’s eyes, but breaks eye contact to sigh. “Aofil.”

“One day? You’ve known her for one day, Tyl. Are you being serious right now?”

“She’s,” Tylior sighs again, deeper than before, “she’s wonderful. She finds me funny. She’s funny as well. She has a nice job. Smart. She has some nice, you know.”

Tylior’s hands work their way up his body, but Aofil stops him almost immediately. “Spare me.”

“Yesterday was one of the best nights I’ve had, period. Everything clicked, it was,” Tylior hesitates, but Aofil already knows what word he was about to use.

“Yesterday was magical, Aof. In way more ways than one. We,” Tylior hesitates again, but this time there’s a smile on his lips as he recalls the event, “went all the way.”

Aofil can’t tell which emotion that’s showing on their face. Tylior sees which though, and scoffs at his own words. He leans back onto the wall behind him with his hands together and his fingers drumming rhythmically.

“I know, Aof. It’s silly. It’s real goddamn silly, if not stupid as well. But, I’m pretty sure I’ve fallen in love with her. We just,” Tylior balls his two hands together, “click, you know? I’m not gonna move in with her or propose to her tomorrow, but I did take some time out of my day to make her a banana pie. That should say it all, really. I’ve never baked something before in my life, let alone for someone else. Let alone again for a monster! A monster that almost destroyed my pants, no less.”

Tylior puts a hand on Aofil, who debates whether or not to allow it. As they debate it in their head, Tylior catches his breath. “That’s why I want you to come and have some with us. You’re not gonna be the third wheel, I promise. If anything I’m afraid that you’ll steal her from me, but I’m willing to take that risk if it means you getting closer to understanding, Aofil.”

“Found it!” announces Sevoltne. Neither Aofil or Tylior react. They don’t even acknowledge her when she walks up to them and swivel her head back and forth between them. “You two ready?”

Aofil breaks eye contact with Tylior, and does so coldly. They smile to Sevoltne. “You and Tylior enjoy that pie without me. I’ve had enough for today.” Aofil pats their stomach. “We humans actually get full, even from magic grub. Right, Tyl?”

Tylior tries to reestablish their eyes to Aofil’s, but Aofil isn’t letting him. They look at him, but not in the way Tylior wants. Aofil’s fake smile is good, but Tylior knows it. He gives it one last chance before breaking off himself and shrugging to Sevoltne. “More for us!”

“I guess so...” She seems a bit sad over Afoil’s rejection, but as Tylior motions for the exit after a brief goodbye with Aofil, he assures Sevoltne that’s it’s not because she’s a monster.

He’s a good liar.

Aofil sits alone while trying to gather their thoughts. It’s fruitless, just like their taste buds are gonna be for the rest of the night. No, this is for the better. Aofil rolls up their sleeve and pushes down the fur. It stings from the broken bone inside, quite a lot actually, but the itching is driving them insane.

Well, more insane.

They’ve kicked everything Tylior thought he’d accomplished straight to the curb, and then some. He’ll recover though, he’s a good person. A great friend that always have Aofil’s back.

So why can’t Aofil be happy for him? Why are they angry with him? They touch their cheeks.

Normal, no blossoming heat. That’s even worse!

Why can’t they be glad that he’s found love? Even though it’s a monster, Aofil should be happy for their friend. They look down at their arm again.

At least now they know why he radiated magic earlier today. Is what why they’re mad at him? Is it because of Sevoltne that Aofil is angry and disappointed? He didn’t choose to fall in love with her! They can’t think like this. Aofil can’t blame him!

Yet they do! Why!?

“Fuck!”

The word bounces around the empty building, not dying out for an extremely long time. Aofil’s sure that the principal heard it, but right now they don’t care about her. They massage their throat, the word took a toll on it.

And it didn’t help either!

Aofil sighs, they’re too tired for this. Too exhausted from their curse, their arm, not having eaten properly, having to probably do another interview, and this time with a monster. They need to get home and calm down, nothing else will help at the moment.

Their mouth tastes bitter, would’ve been nice to have a slice of that banana pie right now. Human pie, no magic. But alas, they’re cursed.

And now they can’t be around their friend anymore, because he’s in love. Love comes before friends, especially friends who can’t even appreciate the company. Especially friends who are now allergic to him.

It’s not fair, any of this.

Aofil’s quiet mumbling and vacant behavior has them sitting alone on the subway home. If they had any mind to spare they would’ve enjoyed it, but their head is full with the realization that their best friend is now food for their curse. The rain at their stop is a blessing though, since it gives them a reason to blame their wet face on something other than the tears staining their cheeks.

The street to their home is more crowded than usual, despite it being late in the evening on a workday. It gives their mind something peculiar to think about, and Aofil welcomes it with open arms. A couple of fire engines stand around the corner of their building at a stop light.

There’s no smoke in the air, and it’s raining. Why are they there? No flames wherever Aofil turns their head neither.

Heavy footsteps make their way down the staircase and Aofil holds the door for whoever it is. Two firemen thank them as they pass Aofil, and Aofil’s so baffled that they forget to ask them what they were doing there. When they realize that they could ask them, the firemen have already disappeared into the now dispersing crowd.

Aofil unlocks the door with a very tired yawn. At least they’re home now. Just need to make something simple to eat and then sink down into their sofa to watch something that they don’t have to dedicate any though to.

Their kettle whistles, and Aofil freezes in place. They didn’t use it during the morning, and if they did then their home would’ve been nothing but soot by now. Is that why the firemen were here? No, can’t be. They sample the smell heading their way.

Sweet, and sour.

The springs on Aofil’s sofa sing that someone is using it. Aofil rushes the corner, and their eyes almost burrow through the back of their skull.

“a bit smaller than your other place.”

A bony finger is dragged on top of the back of the sofa.

“not as dusty though, heh.”


	7. Blues in soul

The sport shoes squeak loudly as they're dragged through the apartment along with their wearer. The shoes find footing outside the door after some light stumbling from the forceful shove over the front door sill.

"is this how you greet an old friend?"

Aofil slams the door shut, but as they turn around they come face to face with the smile again, startling them like no other.

"must've been keeping busy if you already forgot i could do this, aof."

"Get the fuck out, Sans! I'm serious, and I don't need this right now." Aofil opens the door, not having let go of the handle. "If you have any respect for me then you'll leave now. Please, I'm begging you.”

Sans tilts his head up and meets Aofil’s eyes. He keeps them there for a while before shrugging and leaving. Aofil closes the door behind him, and breathes out. Their head turns light and they have to support themselves on the wall with their hand as to not collapse. The spinning eventually fades, and Aofil diverges their attention to the tea on their stove. They take their kettle and pour it all out into their sink.

“now that’s a bit rude.”

The last drops of the scolding hot tea fly off the startled kettle and onto Aofil’s exposed hand. They drop the kettle and it crashes into the empty sink with a loud and jarring sound. Aofil clenches their teeth as a gentle breeze sweeps their legs. They massage their hand before rinsing it under cold water.

“What do you want?” Aofil sighs tiredly.

Sans leans in closer while cocking his head to the side. “in my good ear.”

“The fuck are you doing here, Sans?” Aofil repeats with a vicious glare.

“had my ways past and noticed that your window was open. thought i would swing by and say hello.”

“And now that we’ve said that, are you gonna leave?”

Sans snaps a finger to the sink. “well i was planning on having some tea with you, but if you want to make some human tea instead to share with an old friend i’m not gonna say no.”

Aofil inspects the scald on the back of their hand. They feel some magic diverge from further down their arm and travel up to their hand. Their veins pulsate as they’re filled more than normally. It stings, both from their arm having less magic dedicated to it, and from the pressure in their hand. They tug at the band around their neck holding their plastic brace, and it evens out the pressure.

“you alright?”

Aofil’s hand clenches into a fist, “No, Sans,” and then a bit more, “I’m not alright. I know you don’t have any eyes, but I also know that you’ve seen it by now. You saw it as I left as well. Why would now be any different?”

The furrowing of Sans’ brow is just as uncomfortable as it ever was to Aofil. “because isn’t that the very reason as to why you left? so that things would be different? but the more things change, the more they stay the same, right? it was pretty obvious from your presentation.”

“You,” Aofil’s face drains of color, and their eyes focus on a horizon far far away, “you were there?”

“it was either signing up for jury duty for a human teacher,” Aofil looks down at where Sans was, but he’s gone. His voice comes from the living room, and when Aofil peeks their head around they find Sans on the sofa with his feet on the table in front. He continues, “or helping out with building the city. if you ask me, living in a house is much more comfortable when you’re not aware of all the flaws it has. i can sleep through a dull presentation, not a bunch of hammering and constructing.”

Sans lifts a proud finger. “speaking of that,” his voice is filled with the same pride as he smiles at his segue, “you should start staking claims in the new city as soon as you can, aof. the lots are flying off the shelves, so to speak. i’m sure that you’ll have first pick though if you choose. You have monsters in high places, remember?”

“Why the hell would I do that?”

“are you gonna commute all the way from here?”

Aofil puts up a confused hand towards Sans. “What?”

“how else are you gonna get to work?” Sans repeats slower and more clearly.

“What!?”

“when you eventually nail the interview with the monster school. the writing is on the wall, aof, even i can see that.” Sans bends both of his hands into a pair of bony binoculars and puts them up to his eye sockets. “and like you said, i don’t have any eyes.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” scoffs Aofil with a plastered smirk. “I know how to fake being stupid.”

Sans’ fingers finds its way into the side of his skull. He bores it a bit before rolling and flicking something away. Aofil shakes their head at the behavior. “you know how to be stupid for real so i don’t doubt you on that, aof. you remember when you accused me of blowing things out of proportions? making a big deal out of stuff and putting on an overtly grandiose show?”

Aofil chuckles. “You holding a damn grudge?”

“when someone is being stupid as mettaton would be if stupidity sells.” Sans nods. “yes, then i’ll hold a grudge. you told toriel and asgore that you were their child’s twin, their dead child’s twin, and then you drove off into the sunset. at your parents graveyard no less, because why not? a bit of drama hasn’t killed anyone.” Sans snaps his fingers in realization. “oh wait, that’s what you accused me of.”

“Get out, Sans,” Aofil’s voice is cold like Snowdi… Like a blizzard, “or else I’m calling the police.”

“i know the king and queen, so good luck with that. besides,” Aofil barely has time to react as Sans shortcuts to them and then back to the sofa, “your phone is out of battery. or, to be fair,” Sans pats the backside of Aofil’s phone against his palm, “the battery is out of your phone.”

Aofil takes a heavy step forward.

“you never stopped to think how the others felt when you left?”

The question halts Aofil in their step, like a brick wall.

“guess not.”

“Asriel came back, Sans. Not even me leaving can hold a candle to the prince of the monsters coming back, especially not for the king and queen. I’m gonna be a footnote in the history books, and I’m hesitant to say that I even want that much. Tell them to rewrite it so that I was possessed by Chara or something. At least that way I’m not involved directly, and I can also refute any knowledge of you. It also keeps the story more focused on the core group as well, no additional and superfluous characters such as me to muddle the events. It makes Chara the hero as well. Not their last name, just Chara, if you can. They were the hope of the Underground, that’s what the monsters thought of them. Having the humans believe that too negates any conflicting views, at least on that front.”

Sans doesn’t make any attempts to stop Aofil from retrieving their phone and battery out of his hand. He tilts his head to them though. “wow, you have stopped to think about it.”

“Couldn’t think of anything else for quite a while. I tried, by god did I try, but I couldn’t shake them off,” Aofil raises their fur covered arm, “and with this shooting determination constantly I also imagined a hundred ways how I would kill them and force them back into the Underground. And before you ask, no, it didn’t make me feel any better. If anything it made it worse.” Aofil sighs as they lower their arm carefully back down. “So much worse.”

“didn’t say that you were right in your thinking, just that you made the effort to.” Sans narrows his eyes on Aofil’s arm before they have time to react with an answer. “what is that?”

Aofil doesn’t look down, they already know what Sans is looking at. They noticed it peeking out of the cast as well. “Fur.”

“it looks like...”

“Yup,” Aofil interrupts, denying Sans the tension, ”Dreemurr fur.”

“that’s,” Sans drums his fingers on the table in front of him, “interesting. got it from your fusion with asriel?”

“It’s the only explanation I can think of. Not that I’ve thought of anything else, to be honest.”

“is it soft?”

Aofil shoots down the question with a fiery look.

“very soft, then. so,” Sans leans back into the sofa again and pats his chest. Some mustard sticks to his hand, “what about your soul? does it have a piece of asriel’s in it?” Sans leans forward again, with his unstained hand on his chin. “does asriel have a part of yours in his? that’s actually the better question.”

“Haven’t bothered to check.”

Sans prepares his hand for a snap of his fingers. “may i?”

“No, you may not.”

Sans leans in with his smile and wiggles his eyebrows playfully. Aofil summons an even angrier glare, and Sans opens his hand upright.

“fine, fine. forget i ever asked.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to do all this time. You being here is not really helping.”

“you’ll have to excuse me then for not being one of your pills.”

The burning gaze in Aofil’s eyes freezes, and Sans takes the opportunity to shortcut his arm into Aofil’s bag. He fishes up the empty jar, and shortcuts back to the sofa. With it spinning in his hand he reads it to himself.

“side effects may include, gastronomical issues,” Sans chuckles loudly so that Aofil can hear, “insomnia, and,” Sans lifts a finger and holds the last symptom for dramatic effect even though he’s well aware that Aofil already knows it, “depression.”

Aofil’s forehead is buried into their palm. “Don’t.”

“so the gastronomical problems explain you not eating the pie, sleepiness explains your attitude during the presentation, and the depression explains your attitude right now.”

Aofil tries to cross their arms, but they only manage to put one underneath their injured one. “What’s your point here?”

“stop being so dramatic. do the interview, and do it good,” Sans counts the points down on his fingers, “and then come back. we miss you, and we’d like our aim to be better. can’t really practice it without you not being present.”

With a hand on his lips Sans thinks over what he just said with a audible hum. “it sounded much better in my head.”

“Haven’t had anything to indicate that you’ve been aching for my company,” Aofil nods towards the door, “no mail, no phone, no nothing.”

“come on now. i just figured out where you lived.”

Aofil shakes their head. “Don’t believe you.”

“you believed that the best way to solve everyone’s problem was just to cut them off directly without talking about it first, so i’m not holding your belief in high regard,” Sans returns his hands into his pockets. ” listen, we’ve kept our distance from you because you needed it, but it’s been years, aof. you’ve had time to think, and we both know that you want to go back.”

“Do we now?!”

Aofil rips off the brace and buttons down their shirt arm. They roll it back, exposing the vibrating fur on their arm. “You see this?”

Sans almost fuses with the sofa as he braces from what he just saw. He hangs his eyes on the shaking arm and the crazy grin on Aofil’s face. “yeah, i did. we just spoke about it.”

“It’s not something that should be there! It’s a nice little source of determination, my parting gift. My award for being the hero! For having saved the monsters I was given this. For being the reason the monsters aren’t clawing their heads out I was pushed away. A nice reminder that all this soul and magic business, my curse, will never stop haunting me. Despite my best efforts not to have it be a part of my life. I have to take medication so that I don’t get overwhelmed by thoughts that I know aren’t mine, but that I still believe in. I constantly have to question myself, and that’s all because of you! So pray fucking tell me, Sans! Why should I ever listen to you? Why should I ever come back to the ones that rewarded me by shackling me to the curse they so eagerly wanted out of their life? They, you, got what you wanted, I didn’t get anything!”

Sans again cleanses his non existing ear as Aofil catches their breath. “you done?”

Aofil sinks down next to Sans. Their hand run over their heavy head. It weighs a tonne in Aofil’s hands, like a boulder. Their wet hair hangs down over their hands, hiding their face further.

The tears run as heavy as the head. Crashing down on the sofa and mattress, and darkening the fabric. Aofil’s pained sulks interrupts their sharp breathing, and the sound bounces around the living room like a tragic symphony.

“we both know that i’m not the one to be helpful in these kind of situations, aof,” Aofil hears the creaking of the fabric on the sofa as Sans jumps out of it, “so i’m just gonna take my leave. none of us are mad at you, aof. i know that you know that, but again,” Sans chuckles for himself, “i’m terrible at this. i am gonna be mad at you if you don’t give it a proper chance though.”

Aofil dries their nose with their sleeve. It stains it pretty bad. “Before you go, how did you get in?”

Sans nods to the kitchen window. The toaster is down on its side on the windowsill. "you really should open your window a bit more, aof. i'm not the slimmest of monsters, and you’re well aware of that."

"There was quite a bit of commotion outside, you know?"

"yeah, i got stuck. i guess people called for the fire brigade as i was trying to wiggle myself inside. don't worry though, i told them that everything was fine when they rang on the door."

“My door.”

“semantics.”

"If I had any energy left I would be mad at you for answering it. Heck, for entering without my permission as well. But right now I’m, I don’t know. I feel exhausted, and hollow”

“don’t worry, i’ll lock the door on my way out,” Sans gives Aofil a pat on their shoulder, “you sit here and do whatever. i’ve been here long enough, and i’d rather not shortcut home, it gives me such an appetite. i don’t like eating this late though, not a fan of having an appenight.”

Aofil doesn’t have the strength to argue Sans over how he would lock the door before exiting, instead they just shrug their shoulders at the joke. Sans does too, before walking up to the door, and locking it. He then lifts up the letterbox, and vanishes as Aofil blinks. The mail on the doormat flutters in the wind left behind by Sans’ shortcut. A small brochure detailing the new upcoming MTT branded mega store is flipped Mettaton face up. Aofil tries to quickly forget it as they use their last strength to head for the kitchen.

A microwaved meal and glass of water later they collapse in their bed. Their pulsating arm keeps them up for longer than they want, but eventually they feel their eyes close together.

“Feels a bit weird writing you a letter, but seeing as I’m off for a trip with my class, I think this is the best.”

Aofil pours themselves a cup of coffee and fetch an apple from the fruit bowl inside the teacher’s lounge. They sit back down in their chair and pick up the paper left for them by Tylior.

“Don’t worry about yesterday, Aof. We’ll figure something out later down the line about you and the monsters. I’m not gonna give up on you, and you know that. Don’t give much thought to it, that’s my recommendation. I know that you like to downplay your illness, but I also know that you have to take medication for it.”

Aofil flexes their thigh, rattling the now refilled jar of medicine. Unfortunately they couldn’t get anything for their pounding headache from their doctor, but it will probably fade as the day goes on. Their arm feels fine as well. It stings, but not as much as it should do. Aofil has it in the plastic casing just for show really, and the itching it produces rivals the pain, so they don’t have to act it being hurtful.

“And,” the letter continues. Tylior’s writing being as decipherable as something a Temm… Aofil shakes their head. Decipherable as their doctor’s writing. Much better, “you were also tired and exhausted from the presentation, and  with your arm being broken. Sevoltne isn’t angry with you either, she understands. What I’m trying to get through is that I’ve let yesterday become water under the bridge, and I want you to think of it as well. Your class passed the test, by the way. Just thought I’d let you know.”

There’s a couple of lines afterwards that are layered on top of some previously erased lines, making the rest of the letter more difficult to read. “Anyway, I’ll see you when I see you. There’s some leftover pie in the freezer as well, behind that package of hotdog buns.”

Aofil reaches over for the handle and scoots away the frozen bread, revealing a rock hard slice of pie. They tap it with a nearby fork, and it clinks like it was made out of stone. Aofil runs it in the microwave as they read the last part of the letter.

“Sevoltne gave me some tips on cooking, and used her own magic on your slice!”

God. Fucking. Dammit!

“It’s so much better because of that! Believe me!”

Aofil doesn’t bother with the rest. It’s already ruined. Both the letter, and the pie.

The microwave dings, and Aofil throws the pie directly in the trash along with their apple. They crumple the paper, and throw it on top of the pie.

Hopefully Tylior won’t notice. The last line is still visible when Aofil closes the trash lid.

“Lunch on Sunday still!”

“Yeah, sure,” Aofil whispers to the lid before heading for their classroom.

“Your homework for tomorrow are these pages,” Aofil ends their class by pointing to the pages on the blackboard behind them. The bell rings directly afterwards, and the students head for the door. Aofil drinks some more water to wash the last of their headache away. When they see the last of their pupils leave they take their second pill for the day. Another swig of water helps it go down, but as they replace their glass on their desk, it hits something.

An apple? Aofil picks it up. Sure is one. Wait, they tossed theirs in the trash before the class, who’s this? Maybe it’s the same student that forgot it yesterday?

Aofil puts it back on their desk and starts cleaning their blackboard.

One of their students knocks on the door, and Aofil invites them in without looking. “Come in!”

Footsteps close in and stop in front of their desk. “Is this apple yours?” Aofil asks, finishing up the last part of their blackboard.

No answer.

“Did you forget one yesterday as well?”

No answer.

“Yes, I know I gave you a short notice on the homework, but we’re coming up on some real exciting stuff, so it will be worth it!”

Aofil rinses off their sponge in the sink next to the blackboard, and dries their hand on the towel. They turn around with a smile.

And stop with it fading into disbelief.

A striped arm picks up the apple, rubs with with a finger, and then puts it back down.

“Frisk?”

They nod.


	8. Two that fell, but only one that rose

"Why, why are you here? To talk?"

Frisk's smile fades from their lips as their eyes break from Aofil's. They look ashamed, and Aofil quickly remembers why.

"Sorry. Still not, even after all these years?"

Frisk shakes their head with their eyes down on the desk. They run their finger around on it, drawing figures.

"Everyone else, but not me?"

Weak nod.

"And you won't tell me why?"

Weaker shake.

“Just like before?”

Nod.

Aofil taps on the apple. “Just like before," they repeat. "You doing fine in school, by the way?”

Proud nod.

“Good grades, good friends?”

Reserved nod.

“Friends?”

Relaxed nod.

“Grades?”

Another reserved nod.

“I see. Good, very good.”

Aofil leans back in their chair and exhales a tired and a bit annoyed sigh. First Sans, now Frisk? Very suspicious. Did he shortcut Frisk here, or were they already here earlier? Strange, and again, very suspicious.

Aofil rolls their thumbs together, not caring that one of their arm is supposed to be broken. It's only Frisk here, and they already know everything.

Or do they?

Aofil’s eyes shoot wide open. No, they don't. Frisk doesn't know about the fur! Oh no, did they mess up? What if they tell the others? Sans is enough of a risk, and with Frisk to testify with him...

As Aofil is screaming inside their head, Frisk lifts theirs, and tilts it towards the plastic case around Aofil's arm. Aofil sighs with relief. Is it really relief though? Relief from that they didn't mess up, sure, but shouldn't Frisk knowing about it be worse for them? When did Frisk learn about the fur?

The curtains over the open window at the end of the classroom flutters as winds flows in pass it. Aofil scoffs, should've guessed as much. They unholster the band around their neck and place their arm down on the desk. "Sans told you?" they ask Frisk while unhooking the straps around their arm.

Frisk nods, and Aofil detects eager anticipation on Frisk’s face.

More and more fur is exposed as Aofil rolls up their arm. They keep an eye on the door, just in case. "How much did he tell you?"

The look on Frisk's face contains a strong undertone of disappointment as Aofil stops at the bend of their arm. The anticipation on Frisk’s face doesn’t explode into glee, instead it peters out like a sigh not unlike the one Frisk exhales.

Aofil can't help but chuckle a bit at Frisk's reaction. "That much? Well, should've expected him to blow it a bit out of proportion. How much did he say it was, exactly?"

Frisk holds up their hand, points to the edge of their fingers with one on their other hand, and then runs that finger up their arm and over their shoulder, stopping, and then expanding their fist into an explosion covering their entire chest.

Aofil shakes their head at the imagery. "Did he say something about horns as well?"

Hard shake.

"I see."

Frisk reaches for the fur with their hand, but Aofil stops them gently, but firmly, with their other hand. "You already know what it's going to feel like, Frisk."

A couple of second passes before Frisk gives up, and returns their hand willingly. Aofil nods in thanks, and rolls back their sleeve. They return their eyes to Frisk's. Wait a minute...

Frisk's eyes, they're there!

Frisk smiles at Aofil's very loud reaction, "What?" and nods while blinking.

It takes a while for Aofil to collect themselves. "Contacts?"

Frisk nods and blinks at the same time.

"They're very nice, Frisk. Same as Tori..." Aofil catches their tongue, and averts their head. Frisk readjusts themselves at the same time, and the air between the two turns very uncomfortable.

Aofil forces themselves to collect their thoughts, and push away whatever memories that came surging back. They clear their throat. "Same as hers, I guess?"

Weak nod.

"Good choice. Listen, I never really got the chance to ask, did I hurt you before when I?"

Frisk interrupts with a very aggressive shake of their head. They regret their decision pretty quickly, and is forced to sit down on a nearby chair. They clutch their head. If it's from the question, or the memory?

Aofil can't tell.

"Frisk, I'm sorry."

Weak nod, coupled with a faint snivel. Aofil feels their shoulders getting heavier looking at Frisk. They take strain by leaning on their arms with their hands closed together on the desk. The weight is under control, but that doesn’t mean it’s not hurting like hell.

"You've grown a lot," Aofil comments after a couple of minutes of silence. "You're not the kid I saw through the taxi window. You’re big now, these years have been very kind to you."

Aofil notices the smallest of smiles underneath Frisk's curtain of hair obscuring their face.

"Though, I guess you had grown up enough for a lifetime during your," Aofil searches carefully for their next word, "adventure. For better, and for worse."

Frisk's arm finds its way up their other, comforting as much as it can, even if it's futile. They squeeze their own shoulder, hard.

"I guess the same can be said for your, um, brother?"

Very weak nod.

"You two doing fine now?"

Weak nod.

"Good parents?"

Nod.

"Figured as much. You saved them, Frisk. You've earned your good life."

The grip on Frisk's shoulder loosens, and eventually they let go of it. They brush their hair away, and look up towards Aofil. Their gaze is stern, but caring. They don't speak a word, but Aofil hears clearly what they want to say.

Aofil looks down at their arm and sighs deeply before leaning back and massaging their forehead with their healthy arm. "It's not that simple, Frisk."

Aggressive nod!

“No, it isn’t.”

Stern twist of the lips.

“Yes, it is that hard for me, Frisk! You have a family that’s yours, and that’s there for you. I,” Aofil’s hands harden the grip on the other, “I don’t,” Aofil finally manages to force out of themselves, but not without it sapping a lot of their strength. “I was so close to moving on from them, I was so close to starting my own life. I was just a corner away from accepting that they were dead, and that I was left alone, but when you, them,” Aofil corrects with a involuntary snarl, “came, I was reminded. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I latched on to them like they were my own family. My own dead family! I couldn’t move on with them around me! And no wonder, because Chara was a part of theirs! They became my substitute for a family, and I became their substitute for Chara! You, Frisk, you didn’t have anything before.”

The words hit Frisk like a train, and they visibly recoil in their chair.

“Don’t believe for a second that saying this doesn’t hurt me as well, Frisk! You were something new in their life whereas I was something that reminded them of a better time, and so were they with me. I was something new for their memories, but I wasn’t new for them. Me and them, it doesn’t work, not when the foundation is something else. Is someone else. We’re replacements for one another, not something new in our lives. We can’t and will never be able to fully replace the ones that went away before us.”

Frisk flies out of their chair, with fists clenched in anger. Their mouth is quaking and exposing their teeth. Their glare could level a building, but Aofil weathers it. They feel it though.

It’s piercing through their heart.

“Say it then!”

Frisk shakes their head.

“Tell me I’m wrong, Frisk! Tell me there’s a way out of this!”

Frisk marches towards Aofil, still with their head jolting from side to side.

“Tell me,” Aofil hears their voice waiver. “Please, Frisk. Tell me that there’s a way.”

Frisk stops in front of Aofil’s desk. Their last hinder. Aofil’s hands are quivering on the desk, but they still have enough strength to keep their face cold. Frisk looks down at the desk, and takes a step around it. They close in on Aofil, and fall into their arms. Aofil welcomes them. Embraces them.

Weeps with them.

“I miss you,” Aofil whispers, felling their energy fading with every tear falling on Frisk’s shoulder, and with every tear from Frisk hitting their shoulder. “I miss you all so much. Every day, every second! I try so hard, but I can’t let go of you. I want to come back, there’s nothing else in the world I want to do, but,” Aofil pushes Frisk away gently, “I can’t. It’s not the right thing to do. It’s not fair to them, or to me. It wasn’t supposed to happen in the first place! This wasn’t my story. It was yours, still is yours.”

Aofil drops their hands from Frisk’s shoulders. “Not mine.”

Frisk tries to go in for another hug, but Aofil holds them back. Frisk tries again, but it fails.

But they refuse!

Again they fail, and again they refuse!

They’re determined, but so is Aofil. It sends shock waves of pain from their injured arm, but they still keep Frisk away.

“It’s no use, Frisk. Please, we both don’t need for this to be harder than it is. You have your life, I have mine. This is for the best, for everyone.”

But it refused!

“Frisk!” Aofil grabs Frisk’s arms. “Stop it!”

But it refused.

“Listen to me, Frisk.”

But it refused…

“Please.”

But it…

“If you really want me to be happy.”

...refused.

“Then let me live my own life.”

…

Frisk’s arms go limp, falling down on either side of their body. Aofil catches them though, and holds Frisk’s hands in their. “I am so glad to see you, Frisk, and I’m so glad to see how much you’ve grown. Never forget that. But please, do forget me. Do it for me. I can’t be with them. Literally as well. I’m cursed, and there’s no place for a curse in your kingdom, Frisk.”

Heavy sob.

“It is your kingdom, Frisk. You made it possible, you’re royalty now. You’re not the hope of the Underground, you’re the hope of the Surface. I’m a reminder of a time before the Surface. I love everyone of those characters you brought up that day, but that’s why I’m here. That’s why I’m not a part of their life anymore, because I wasn’t supposed to be one. I was just the first human they saw, and by far not the best one. Surely they’ve met hundreds if not thousands of humans by now. I want to be a face in the mass, and not even that. I don’t want to be remembered, because then I will remember. I want, I need, to finally find peace about my own family.”

Frisk’s eyes quiver with water. Aofil offers a helping arm sleeve, and dries off the tears on the brink off falling down, “Frisk, live your life. Help the monsters coexist with us humans. Do that by living your life, with your family. Not me, I’m not apart of it. I never was. I can’t be, because of my curse. You’re wasting your time on me. Please, Frisk, don’t you have something better to do?”

Aofil welcomes Frisk into their arms again, “Thank you,” because they feel it’s different now. Frisk isn’t trying to convince them, Aofil feels. Frisk is trying to cope now as well.

“I know it’s hard, Frisk, and I know that there’s a chance, but I don’t want to risk my life on long shots. Not again. It burned me once,” Aofil brings their stained arm into Frisk’s view, “and it’s still hurting. It will never stop hurting, and it’s because I made the choice to have them remember me. It would’ve been better if I just left instead of playing the hero. Maybe then I could’ve returned, but that’s way past us now.”

Frisk’s grip relaxes on Aofil’s shirt.

“No reset.”

It hardens again.

“It’s not gonna get better than this, Frisk. And you know that. If not this, then something else will be worse, far worse. You have your life now, and I have mine. It’s fine now. We just have to,” Aofil gives Frisk’s back a couple of reassuring pats, “learn to live with it.”

Aofil let’s Frisk rest against them for a while, but eventually they have to pry Frisk away.

“Remember when you told me that it wouldn’t get any easier knowing about the past?”

Frisk’s nod stains and wrinkles Aofil’s shirt.

“Well, it doesn’t.”

Aofil’s chuckle doesn’t help, quite the opposite, really.

“And the best way for you now is to pay me no mind no more. You don’t need another weight on your shoulders. They’re already heavier than what they should be. Don’t put me on them as well. I’ll miss you, Frisk. I’ll miss them as well, but it’s time now.”

Frisk gives Aofil one last hug.

“Goodbye.”

A pair of heavy knocks on the door forces Aofil to quickly wrap up their arm again. They put on their wind jacket to cover up the stains on their shirt, and nods to Frisk. “Come in.”

The principal enters. “Ah, they found you.”

Aofil’s confused at first, but they soon realize who the principal is talking about. “Hm, oh yeah,” and pats Frisk on the head, “they did.”

Before the principal has time to answer Aofil stands up with Frisk’s hand in theirs. “And they were just about to leave, right?”

Frisk slips their hand out of Aofil’s, and closes the door behind them. The principal recoils from the slam, and follows Frisk with their eyes through the window in the door. Aofil sits down again. “Anything on your mind?” they ask.

The principal answer comes in the form of a conflicted hum. She glances towards Aofil, but then quickly turn her eyes back trough the window. After a couple of seconds she glances back to Aofil, and this time her eyes linger. She clears her throat and tug at the edges of her suit to straighten it. She twist her lips in thought before smacking them together. “So, your cousin’s kid?”

Aofil nods. “Yeah, been a while since I saw them last time.”

Technically they’re not lying.

The principal turns her head from the door to Aofil. A smile builds on her lips, and she raises an eyebrow and scoffs with a chuckle. “I knew it!”

Aofil’s smile turns into a worried frown. “What?”

The principal takes a seat opposite of Aofil’s desk. “You,” she points with a waggling finger. “You know the monster royals, don’t you?”

A knowing smirk builds up on the principal’s lips as Aofil freezes up in fear. She has the courtesy to wait for Aofil to thaw out a bit before continuing though, but it takes a long while of suspended silence. She nods towards the door with a wink. “That kid, that was Frisk. The adopted human child of the monster king and queen. Been on the news for like, a couple of years now. Impossible to not have noticed unless you make a distinct effort not to engage in any form of news regarding the monsters.”

The principal’s wink is almost audible. ”They just showed up an hour or so ago, and asked for you specifically. I thought they were here to congratulate you on passing into the next step of the monster school program.”

The principal scratches her chin in thought. “A bit weird sending a kid, I admit, but I thought they had some monsters accompanying them so I sent them to your classroom. Didn’t see them when I went for the printer. What was it, ten minutes later or something? So I guess they must’ve attended your class. Did you see them?”

Aofil shakes their head, but their neck is stiff like a concrete pillar so it only barely moves. The principal crosses her arms and readjusts herself in her chair. “So again, I guessed that they were staking you out further. For that clause in the contract, remember? Who else to send to see a teacher in their natural state, but a pupil of the same age? Color me surprised then when I came in here and saw you two holding hands!”

The principal has to quell her chortle with her hand. “My first thought was that you must’ve done beyond excellent to warrant that reaction. My second thought was a bit more,” the principal clears her throat, “insidious, but I quickly dismissed that one. I was a bit dazed trying to figure out what I saw, but then another explanation hit me. The reason you’re angry with them, the reason you’re so hellbent on getting away from the monsters. Why you have to take medication. Aofil, you were at the trial, right?”

Aofil doesn’t answer the question.

“You lost someone to the Underground, one of the six kids were close to you. And worse, you were close to the monsters. You only figured that out after you made friends with them!”

Aofil’s can’t see the principal in the eyes, and they lower their head.

“No...” The principal unravels her arms. Her eyes expand until they’re as big as her hanging mouth, and just as stunned. She struggles to form words, because she can’t believe what she's about to say. It all fits though, it all makes sense. “You were one of them. One of the kids! Oh my god...” The principal grabs her head as it turns light as air. “How long did you live down in the Underground? Did the Dreemurrs adopt you as well? Why didn’t you die?”

The principal’s breathing stops. “Why aren’t you with them any longer?”

“I’m handing in my resignation tomorrow,” comes the answer.

The words wash over the principal like a avalanche. She contemplates in silence before sighing. “You left them for a reason?”

Aofil nods.

“And now you’re being forced back to them?”

Aofil nods.

“I’m,” the principal runs her hand over her mouth, only know realizing what sh's done. “I’m so sorry, Aofil.”

Aofil gathers up their books and bag quietly, “It’s not your fault,” before leaving the principal alone and with a panicked expression on herr mouth. She looks pleadingly towards Aofil. “You couldn’t have known.”

The door is closed gently, but the apple on the desk still falls over.


	9. Leaning in too far

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! An extra birthday chapter!

The doorbell on Aofil's door has been ringing for over a minute, but they keep on ignoring it. They know who it is, but they’ve no interest in speaking with him. The ringing continues for another minute, and is eventually replaced by heavy knocking. The knocking fades, and are replaced by some rattling from the handle, and from the lock. An angry voice yells something from outside Aofil’s door, and another tries to explain the situation as best it can.

Aofil recognizes the voice, and its quick wit that rapidly disarms the angry voice. It used to bring such happiness to them, but now? Now it's a voice from another past that they have to leave behind. The rattling of the lock continues while Aofil scrolls down on their phone. Pictures of apartments and houses fly past the screen. Anything that seems viable has the same words next to them.

Written in a green font. "Monsters in the neighborhood!” It’s something positive, the monsters are something positive. The monsters are good, for everyone.

For everyone, except Aofil.

They’re alone in this. They were naive to think that they would ever get away from this. They really are an idiot. And now they have to do it all over again. Find a new city, a new house, and a new life. Will they ever be able to settle down? Do they have to go further and further away until they reach the sea? What happens then when the monsters come to the beach?

Shit, there are monsters in the water as well! So nowhere is safe! Fantastic!

“Goddammit!”

The rattling from the lock on the door stops for a second. When it starts again the tone is different, very different.

Aofil returns to their phone. Just keep scrolling, there has gotta be something they can afford that’s not surrounded by monsters? Are they already forced to leave the country? How much time will that give them? A couple more years? More or less than what they had this time? There can’t be that many monsters though? Eventually it has to stop pouring out from that damn mountain, right? And monsters don’t grow up that quickly.

What’s this though? A whole slew of modern looking apartments without that green text next to them. There’s some red text though stapled next to the offerings. It’s bright red, but it makes Aofil smile.

“Monsters need not apply. Human applicants only.”

With eyes widened in surprise and interest, Aofil leans in closer, as a wave of relief washes over them. The apartments are nice, but where’s the catch? Very good looking. Reasonably priced, now that’s a surprise. Normally you’d have to pay an arm and a leg for these. Wait a second, Aofil has already payed an arm, so they only have to offer a leg. Aofil scoffs, they really needed to see this today. Too bad these weren’t available the first time they had to this, but hey, seems like now’s a turning point for Aofil. Half a year or so until they’re available though, but that’s fine.

“That’s fine,” Aofil repeats for themselves. They’ve lived longer than that all by themselves, so half a year won’t be a problem. They just have to go back to noodles and tea for the time being, but that’s worth it.

Where are they located though?

“Monster City.”

The phone glides slowly out of Aofil’s hand, and they sigh.

“Fuck.”

The lock on their door turns, and it opens. Aofil doesn’t care who it is, right now they kinda wish it was a robber.

“You didn’t lock your door.”

Yes, Aofil did.

Something is thrown at Aofil. They look out from their hand and down on the floor next to them. It’s their shoes. They look at the thrower, who has a mixture of pride for hitting Aofil from that far a distance, and concern, because they had to do it. Aofil shakes their head sternly.

“What are you doing here, Tylior?”

“It’s Sunday. It’s lunchtime. Let’s go.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Aofil’s stomach rumbles, as if summoned.

“Doesn’t matter!” Tylior snaps his fingers towards the door. “We need to talk.”

“That’s what I’ve been doing this entire week, Tyl! I’m exhausted, just leave me alone.”

“Yeah, I know you’ve been talking this entire week. Aof. You’re a teacher.”

“Was,” Aofil corrects viciously.

“Are,” Tylior deflects. “You still got a couple of weeks left.”

“Just don’t.”

“You also made a promise, Aof,” Tylior is quick to remind.

“You serious?” Aofil asks with disbelief and an eyebrow raised high. “Are you ten or something?”

“And how old are you? Five?” Tylior retorts with an even higher eyebrow. “Going home and locking yourself in your adult room instead of discussing like the adult you act to be.”

The fuck is he talking about? Aofil bursts out from their chair, knocking it over with a loud crash. “You think I’m like this because of some goddamn prank or something? You’ve no idea what I’ve been through!”

“Then tell me, please!” Tylior throws his arms in the air. “Wow! I don’t know what you’ve been through because you haven’t told me anything. What a surprise!”

“Maybe because I don’t want to relive the darkest moments of my life!” Aofil taps the sides of their skull with both their hands. “Ever thought about that?”

“I’ve been there for you every step of the way, Aofil. And you know that. You’re mad at me because of something you insist on not telling me. That’s fine, and I’ve respected that. I haven’t pried beyond what you’ve been comfortable sharing. I know that you have a past, and I know that it is bad. And that’s fine, we all have our skeletons in our closets.”

He has no idea how bad his choice of words are! Or does he?

“But,” Tylior marks with a ferocity that Aofil’s never heard from him before, “you can’t hold against me what you refuse to say. You’re mad at me, and you expect me to understand, but you don’t trust me enough to explain to me why. And that,” Tylior eyes harden on Aofil, “that, Aofil, is fucking respectless. That is not being fair to me. I should be furious at you for thinking so little of me, even after everything I’ve done, even after everything you’ve had me through. You’re full of shit, Aofil, but I’m willing to look past that, because we’re friends. But, here’s where I have to put my foot down, and only meet you halfway this time. That’s not me being unfair, that is me demanding a healthy friendship, where we both trust each other enough to be at equal footing.”

Aofil takes support on the table, and with their other hand they pinch their forehead. “Tylior, when have I ever lied to you? Honestly?”

Tylior explodes into a series of flails and desperate laughs. He regains himself after a few seconds, and throws his hand towards Aofil. “You’re leaning yourself on an arm that’s supposed to be fucking broken, Aof! Goddammit, what the hell is happening?”

Aofil returns their arm to their side, but it’s too late.

“Put on your damn shoes, Aof!” Tylior opens the door and holds it open. “Let’s go eat.”

The two don’t say a word on the way to the subway, on the subway, and from the subway. What is there to say? Small talk? No, what they have to get through between each other is too big to be filled with small talk. They need to do it public as well, so that their emotions don’t get in the way.

After some walking after their subway stop Tylior motions with a nod towards a nice little restaurant on the waterway.

“It’s packed full, Tyl.”

“I got us a reservation, Aof. Don’t worry.”

Aofil halts. “What do you mean? Reservation? What if I didn’t come?”

Tylior rolls his eyes and shakes away the question, “I know you, Aofil,” while putting a hand on Aofil’s shoulder. “I know you more than you know.”

Aofil swats away the hand. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know, really,” Tylior admits with a chuckle. “Just felt like I was supposed to say that.”

“Yeah, well it’s a bit creepy. I could’ve just as well called the police for you breaking into my apartment.”

Tylior starts walking again, and Aofil catches up. “Like I said, you didn’t lock your door. I mean, you did, but not after your landlord opened the door for me.”

“How?”

“She knows Sevoltne.”

“Right?”

The two arrive at the back of the line to the restaurant. “And she knows me as well, Aofil. How many times have I visited you? She also knows who I am because her son is in my class.”

They advance a couple of places in line. “Have never seen him in my building.”

“Was just as surprised as you were when I met her for the teacher parent talk. Her son lives with his father because of some medical thing I didn’t really catch up on.”

They arrive at place two in the queue. “You can always say that you know how to pick a lock, Tyl. That would also explain why my chocolate usually disappears and its wrapper ends up in the trash. On top of the trash as well, almost as if it’s to provoke me.”

Tylior turns to Aofil with a smile. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

“Then I guess we live in a very small world.”

“When one of the royal heirs of the monsters come visit and asks for your name, then I’m surprised we even need airplanes to travel across this apparent pebble of a world.”

“Sorry, no tables left,” apologizes the waiter as Aofil and Tylior reaches the end of the line.

“Tylior and Sevoltne,” Tylior states, “we have a reservation,” and flashes his identification.

The waiter moves his eyes to Aofil. He hangs on them for a couple of seconds before deciding that it’s better not to ask. “Certainly, right this way.”

The angry muttering and seething looks of the people and monsters in the line crawl up Aofil’s back. They feel something tingle in their arm as well, so they take a pill, just to be safe.

Tylior and Aofil are seated at the edge of the waterway. A nice breeze flows from the water. Boats and monsters navigate carefully around each other on and inside the glittering water. It’s a nice view, even Aofil can admit that much.

“A tall glass of spirits with some monster dust sprinkled inside to start things off?” Tylior asks while browsing the menu.

Aofil can’t stifle their scoff. “That what you had during your young days on the countryside?”

Now it’s Tylior’s time to chuckle. “If there had been monsters at that time I would’ve probably.”

Aofil nods. “Hm. I think I’ll just have something light.”

“Two bottles of vodka then. No glasses.”

“Yeah,” Aofil lowers the menu, “sounds like a plan, actually. What with everything that has happened this week.”

“Sevoltne recommended a wine so I’m thinking I’ll order that for us.” Tylior closes his menu. “Sounds good?”

“A monster recommending a human drink. Why not? She and you are getting along pretty well.”

“Yup.”

Aofil closes the menu gently as well. “I’m sorry about what happened, Tyl.”

“It’s nice hearing that from you, Aofil. Believe me, it really is. I never thought that you really felt like that, but there was this nagging part at the back of my head that didn’t want to just go away. Hearing you say it has silenced it now, thanks. I also knew that you had a bit of an episode after that presentation. I could see it in your eyes,” Tylior waves his hand over his own eyes. “They became a bit red. Redder.”

A chill goes up Aofil’s spine, and they struggle to find a comfortable position, despite the lounge sofa they’re sitting in being one of the most comfortable seats they’ve ever had.

“All this time, until yesterday, actually, I thought it was just my imagination. Just my mind tricking me, but in a good way. Turns out it was actually real and my best friend’s eyes shift color when they’re angry.” Tylior ends his sentence by looking out over the water. His face is furrowed, contemplating. He knows, but he’s having difficulty accepting it. “Who knew?”

Tylior sighs with the wind. “I know that we humans used to know magic, what with us erecting that barrier and stuff, but I don’t think I know that we still have it. I know it, but I don’t know it inside me.” He turns to Aofil. “Am I making any form of sense?”

“Actually, you do. To me, at least. I went through it as well, but unlike you I was kinda,” Aofil interrupts themselves to let Tylior order the wine from the waitress. When she’s out of audible distance they finish their sentence, “forced.”

“How do you mean, exactly?”

“I’m not sure I can explain it exactly. Because I don’t think I know it exactly. There’s been so much stuff that’s happened to me, but that I’m not sure is even real.”

“Do you trust me enough for the short summary?”

Aofil sighs, “I guess I do,” and looks at their arm. “I know the monster royals, and their closest friends. I’ve lectured for Frisk, for Undyne, for Alphys as well.”

Tylior can’t really believe his ears. “The scientist?”

“She still is one?”

Tylior nods. “Yeah. Wow, you’ve really been hard at work sticking your fingers in your ears.”

“She was very hesitant before about continuing. I guess seeing real science changed her mind. Did you know that they called magic science? You should’ve seen her face when I told her what atoms were.”

Tylior struggles to keep his jaw from hitting the floor. “You’re not pulling my leg here, Aofil? Because seriously...”

Aofil scratches their head. “You asked for the truth, Tyl.”

“Yes, I know, but what you’re saying, it’s like,” Tylior stops as the bottle of wine is placed on the table He beckons for Aofil’s glass and fills it up, “it’s like you were best friends with them or something.”

Aofil swirls the wine in their glass before sampling it. It’s a good one. Fruity, yet with a vintage aftertaste. “Oh, and I’ve had Undyne and Alphys naked and showering together in my house as well.”

The loud choking from Tylior startles the nearby tables. A couple of heads turn, but only for a moment. The pillow next to Aofil is stained by the wine. Aofil turns it around before anyone else notices.

“Aofil,” Tylior manages to force out of him in between gasps of air. “Knock it out.”

“They used a lot of shampoo and body wash. Scales takes a bit more cream to get clean, or so they’ve told me,” Aofil finishes by taking another sip of wine.

They’re actually enjoying this.

“If you’re such good friends, then why did you leave?”

And right back down it goes.

Aofil’s smile disappears as quickly as it formed. “I brought Asriel back to life.”

Luckily Tylior wasn’t drinking, otherwise the wine would’ve leaked out of his jaw as it smashes the floor underneath him.

“And in doing so I learned too much about the monsters, and too much about myself,” Aofil continues. “I actually have an allergy to magic. My soul is broken, it can’t handle determination without leaking all inside me. Do you know what determination is?”

“I’ve heard the monsters talking about it. Like, our souls made manifest?”

“Kinda, I’m not so sure either. It tastes horrible though, that’s for certain. When I have it running through me, thoughts flood my mind, terrible thoughts. I get mad, my cheeks turn red, and my eyes as well. More redder. It’s a curse of mine, and because of it I can’t go back to them. It’s why I can’t be with you either, Tylior, not when you and Sevoltne are together.”

“Because her magic rubs off on me?”

Aofil nods. “Yes. Even now I can feel it tingling inside me from all the monsters around us. My anger medication helps, and I’m so thankful that it does. Otherwise,” Aofil sighs, “otherwise I would’ve been in the loony bin.”

With a conflicted hand scratching the back of his head, Tylior sinks down in the sofa he’s on. “Damn,” he says while exhaling a thoughtful sigh, “explains a lot.”

“Like why I refused to tell?”

“I guess? Kinda? I’m not fully convinced, to be honest. But you were honest with me, so I guess I can’t ask for more. I’d still like to know how you met them in the first place.”

“Screamed in fear and then hit my head on a rock.”

Tylior watches very carefully for any shift in Aofil’s face. For the smallest smirk to form after that ridiculous statement, but nothing happens. “Right then. Fair enough.”

“Anything else?”

“I’m sure plenty, but nothing right now,” Tylior scoffs silently. “I guess when I’m finished digesting this you’ll already be long gone.”

Aofil runs their finger around their glass. “Yeah, I guess too.”

“Nothing I can say that might change your mind?”

“Don’t think so. With monsters joining our school, it’s only a matter of time before my allergy overwhelms me. My pills only hide the anger, it doesn’t remove it.”

“Then I won’t bother.”

“Thanks.”

“Are you still going to that interview?”

Aofil nods. “Yeah, I am, tomorrow afternoon. Got the tickets on Friday. It’s at the monster city as well, so that’s gonna be fun to see, despite everything.”

“You sure?”

“About me feeling fine about it? No. But, you’re still my friend, and I still love my job, so I’m not gonna blow it just because I’m moving away, or because I might feel like shit afterwards. I’m comfortable enough to sacrifice a day or two of my life feeling like my soul is gonna explode.”

Tylior doesn’t join with Aofil’s worried chuckle.

“No really, I am,” Aofil states again, seriously, “seriously.”

“If you say so.”

Tylior raises his glass. “It’s been good, Aofil.”

Aofil meets Tylior’s with theirs, “Sure has, Tylior. I hate to have it end like this,” and moves the glass to their lips. “Heck, even for it to end.”

“Will you visit?”

“You’ve no clue how much I want for that to happen.”

“You’re a good person, Aofil. You’ll see this through. I’ll have a banana pie ready for you the next time we meet. I’ll make sure to swat Sevoltne away from it as well.”

Aofil looks out over the water again, and Tylior joins them. “I remember telling Undyne that despite everything that has happened, I was glad that they resurfaced.”

A boat stops for a small talk with a large fish monster.

“And you wish that you could still say the same?” Tylior asks after another sip of wine.

“I guess I do, Tyl.” Aofil nods to themselves. “I guess I do.”

“You ready to order?” asks a waiter patiently with a pen and notebook ready at hand.

Tylior looks at Aofil, who gives their blessing. “Yes, we are.”


	10. Away to home

A loud notification jolts Aofil awake from their daydreaming. They take out their phone and grumble at the warning plastered on the screen.

“Your monthly bandwidth has been used up. For more information, respond to this message.”

The music in their ears stutters and eventually fades. Why they didn’t lower the streaming quality before setting off, that Aofil can’t answer, but they can berate themselves for doing it. And that they do. They take out their headphones while blowing their lips.

How far along are they now? Aofil drags the curtain next to them aside and narrow their eyes at the midday sun surprising them. They wait for their eyes to adjust themselves before trying to get their bearings on where they are.

Green hills and fields of wheat is the only thing they see. Some houses here and there, along with a small town or so. Not much really that stands out or helps them, but it’s not hard on the eyes, so they can’t really complain. Could also be the reason they aren’t getting a connection for their music. Either way, the rest of the journey is gonna be boring.

“Wow!” comes a breathy whisper from the opposite side of the bus. Aofil turns their head, and then immediately turns it back. “Is that Mt. Ebott? Where the monsters came from?”

Aofil only caught a glimpse, but that was enough. It’s far away, really far away, but Aofil knows it like their back pocket. They’ve lived in its shadow for the majority of their life. Did the monsters build their town next to Mt. Ebott? On the other side of their own? Didn’t they want to leave the Underground behind? Didn’t they shut down the CORE? What else is there left in that area for them? The color on Aofil’s face drains, so much so that they become light headed.

Did the monsters find their summer home?

Oh no, what if that’s the reason? Asriel might’ve been able to let Chara go, but what about Toriel and Asgore? Is there another Above Lab? But why? Asgore has his son back, there’s no need for it to exist.

Unless…

If Asriel coming back to life was possible, what’s stopping Asgore from trying to bring back Chara? And that’s why Alphys still is the royal scientist! Dammit! And Asriel is probably in on it all. Everyone is! Even Frisk! Is that why this is all happening? Is the interview just a trap? Just a reason for Aofil to get close enough so that they can replace their soul with Chara’s? Frisk will be rid of them, and the Dreemurrs will be a complete family again. Aofil couldn’t replace Chara, so they’ll replace Aofil with Chara!

The bus makes a sharp turn, away from the mountain, and Aofil feels blood returning to their head. The rushing sound echoes in their ears, and a wave of sickness washes over them. Aofil looks at the reflection of their eyes in the screen of their phone.

A faint red. Their cheeks are a bit hot as well.

Must be all these monster sitting around them. Good thing Aofil brought with them their medicine. They take a pill, and swallow it down with some water they brought along for the ride.

They shouldn’t really let their mind wander like that, but without music or anything else to distract them…

And it’s only going to get worse once they’re completely surrounded once in the monster city. So much can go wrong. Aofil has to keep their head level throughout not only navigating through monsters, but also having an interview with one. If they’re lucky they can play it off like in their presentation, but even that gave them trouble.

The driver informs that up next is Aofil’s stop, where travelers to Monster City are transferring to another bus. Hopefully it too won’t be heading for Mt. Ebott. Even with the increasing distance, the looming presence still nags at the back of Aofil’s head.

They’re going away from it, but it still feels too close for comfort.

“For anyone transferring to the Monster City, you’ll be doing so from platform D,” the driver announces as the bus slows down at the stop. Aofil waits for the monsters to exit before following. They grab their bag and head for platform D.

The bus there is human made, but the paint and accessories on it can only be described as monster like. The name of it isn’t the biggest surprise either.

“Monster City Bus,” Aofil mouths silently, feeling every syllable roll off their tongue. They’re passed by a couple of monsters that pay no mind to the name.

“Excuse me,” one turns to forgive as it accidentally bumps Aofil’s shoulder. Aofil puts up a reassuring hand letting the monster know it’s fine.

They board the bus, and flash the ticket to the driver. She hangs on Aofil for just long enough for it to be awkward before she approves the ticket and smiles. Aofil turns some heads walking down the bus to their seat as they’re the only human on the bus. They sink down in their seat, which is adorned with various monster shapes.

They’re seated in the Undyne section, if the sign over them stating that this is the ‘Undyne Section’ is to be believed. Aofil leans out into the corridor. There’s a Mettaton and Papyrus section as well on this floor of the bus. Aofil wonders who’s on the upper floor, but not enough to go up and look. Instead, they lean back for a nap. A strange feeling washes over them though, and they open on eye slightly.

The monsters around them are looking right at them. Not many humans traveling to the Monster City? Strange.

“Human?”

Aofil opens their eye fully. “Hm?”

The monster opposite of them, a red one with a set of irregular teeth, points with a wing down towards Aofil's feet. “Your luggage.”

Aofil looks down at their backpack, with a large chunk of textile ripped out of it. A sandwich is missing as well. “Oh.”

They catch a glimpse of the monster that bumped them heading up the stairs at the front of the bus. Some ragged cloth and a packed sandwich is hanging on one of its spikes. They twist their lips, but again, it’s not enough to get them to risk seeing who’s upstairs.

It could be her. Aofil can hold themselves up to Sans, even Frisk, but not her. Or him, for that matter.

Aofil nods to the monster opposite them. “Must’ve ripped it.”

“I heard that there was a sale at the MTT Shop in the city, human. It’s just a couple of blocks away from the bus stop. You can’t miss it.”

“Screaming pink and neon?”

The monster is taken back a bit. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“Then I know how it looks. Thanks.”

The monster’s lips stretch, and another set of even more irregular teeth is exposed. “No problem. If you don’t mind, may I ask what you’re doing in Monster City?”

“Actually,” Aofil runs their tongue over their lips, “I do.”

“Ah,” the monster bows its head. “Sorry then.”

“It’s okay.”

The monster returns to their business, and Aofil returns to theirs. They lean back, and as the bus starts and the gentle rocking of the suspension lulls them. Aofil falls asleep.

“Monster City. Final stop,” informs the driver through the speaker system. Aofil blinks awake as the rest of the monsters disembark. They stretch out the last of their sleep and pick up their bag. It gets stuck underneath their seat and the medium sized hole turns into a gaping one with a loud rip.

“Dammit,” Aofil sighs, picking up the papers and food that fell out of it. The entire side of their backpack is missing. Useless. Guess they have to make that extra stop at the shop.

First though, they have to find a toilet. “Excuse me?” they ask the driver. “Where can I find a toilet?”

The driver looks at Aofil perplexed. “Toilet?”

“Yeah, I need to use one,” Aofil explains in a hurry.

“Um,” the driver forces a smile. “In the nearest human apartment or workplace. Since the human population at the moment is so small there hasn’t been a priority to build any public ones. None that I'm aware of, that is.”

Aofil’s eyes widen. “Do you know where the nearest human is, then?”

“No idea, sorry.”

Aofil flies out of the bus with panic in their eyes, and everywhere else. They rush up to the ticket vendor. “Is there a human working here?”

“No, only monsters. But I will be happy to help...” the monster barely manages to finish their sentence before Aofil rushes away.

The city is beautiful, but Aofil doesn’t have the time or thought to take it all in. They need to get it all out first! They navigate through the crowd of monsters with their slashed backpack in their arms, but there’s no toilet, or human, anywhere. This backpack isn’t doing Aofil any favors either, they can’t move through the crowd with it in their arms, it’s too clunky.

“Yoho, darlings!” comes a voice. It’s distorted, like it’s originating from a cheap speaker. “I can see that you’re not MTT branded fabulous, like me. Why not fix that huge personality flaw by shopping here, at MTT Outlet!”

There, the MTT store! At least they can fix one of their problems.

“Welcome, darling,” comes the same voice, but from another cheap speaker inside the doors of the store. The tone is patronizing, but that’s to be expected.

“Oh, wow. Another human? Nice to see a new skinny face,” greets an employee unboxing some wares two aisles next to Aofil. “Hey, Multa, there’s another human here!”

Aofil’s ears perk. Another?

“Oh, nice! How’s it going?” nods a girl from a bit further into the store. She waves with a smile.

“Toilet!?”

Aofil’s aware of the bluntness of the question, but right now they’re too desperate to be embarrassed.

The girl beckons for Aofil. “This way.”

She navigates swiftly through the customers and unlocks a door behind some shelves. Aofil thanks her, and proceeds to be relieved over the sweet relief of relieving themselves.

With a weight literally expelled from them Aofil finds the girl again. “Thanks.”

“All good?”

“Yeah,” Aofil recoils a bit from the bluntness thrown back at them, “sure. I’m gonna take a wild guess and say that not many humans come through here?”

The girl’s cheeks blossom, but unlike Aofil, hers is from embarrassment. “That obvious? You’d be amazed how much you miss stuff you took for granted.”

“I mean,” Aofil tries to hide their emerging smile behind their hand, “I’m pretty amazed that you asked me how my visit to the toilet was.”

The girl shrugs. “When you’re surrounded by creatures that don’t have to use it.”

Aofil nods, still with a smile on their lips. “Fair enough. How is it living with monsters all around you?”

Multa turns her head to the other monster customers in the store. “I’d love to tell you all about it.”

Aofil shows her their backpack. “I need a new one, you can tell me while I’m browsing.”

The girl again beckons for Aofil. “This way, then. They’re on the other side of the store.”

“How convenient.”

The girl chuckles at Aofil’s eyebrow waggles. “Yeah, I know.”

“So, living with monsters?”

“It’s actually not so bad. I have some great colleagues.”

“We know,” comments one without turning their head.

“There are some more humans already living here. Some are helping with construction, others are here for other types of work, and others wanted to start a new life.”

Aofil doesn’t pry which one the girl is, no real reason for it. “So do you like, greet them in the streets?”

“It was common before, but now when you’ve had time to settle in. You rarely tilt your head at them now. It’s just a part of your life now. Same thing with the monsters. When I see stuff hovering, being conjured, and heck, even exploding, I don’t get startled. It’s there, and it’s weird, but it’s normal to me.”

Aofil nods. “I see.”

“Man, I was really frightened the first time I got here. It’s like moving to a new city, times a thousand. I had to tell beforehand that I was a human and that I needed plumbing. It delayed my move by a couple of weeks, and my friends still ask to use it when they’re visiting.”

“None of the monsters in my city do that, though perhaps.”

“Yeah,” the girl continues, “they have it by default. Then it became normal for them as well, I guess. What are they using it for? I’ve always wondered.”

“Oh,” Aofil flusters out an answer. “I’ve not really asked, I still take it for granted, so I’ve not bothered to ask.”

The girl lips turn into a frown for just a second. “Hm. Oh well, guess I’ll ask the next one.”

“About magic, you don’t feel influenced by it?”

Multa thinks for a number of seconds before tapping her finger on her cheek. “Influenced how?”

“Like, messing with your emotions?”

“I don’t really know? I can definitely feel it around me, and sometimes inside me.”

A monster colleague of Multa nudges her side with one of their claws while winking. She swats it away and smacks them with a flip flop donned with Mettaton’s smiling face.

“But I wouldn’t go so far as to say that it affects me. Human souls are much stronger than monster soul, so. Anyways,” Multa points to a rack stocked with backpacks, “pick whichever you like.”

“Just, one more question. It’s kinda personal as well. What,” Aofil take a deep breath, “what did you think about the decision made at the trial?”

Multa moves Aofil into the racks, obscuring them from the others. “I agreed with it. A hundred percent. What they did, they murdered kids!” She growls with a whisper. “But, doing horrible stuff is what we humans do on a regular basis. I was given a second chance, so why shouldn’t I give the monsters one? I’ve lived with them for years now, and sometimes they’re more human than both you and me.”

“What if someone you loved was killed by them?” Aofil asks. They hear the pleading in their voice, and they fear that they might’ve overstepped it.

Multa debates with herself before sighing in defeat. “The opposite almost happened for me. You know the riots that followed the trial?”

Aofil nods.

“I was there, I was in the thick of it. We offered to be fair with the monsters, yet they made these outlandish demands, right? Or so, that’s what I thought of it at the beginning. I was moved here for community service, and once my time was up, I found myself wanting to stay. It’s pretty funny, actually. I did everything to push them away, but once I stopped to listen, I found out that they were good. They’re not angels or anything, like I said, they’re just as flawed as us, but we’re on equal footing. We make mistakes, they make mistakes.”

Aofil can’t even muster a nod.

“What I’m trying to say is that maybe magic and science one day will mean the same thing? Maybe one day we’ll be like we were before the Barrier. I don’t know what happened to you, but maybe if you heard their side of the story you’d find something? What’s there to lose?”

“My other arm.”

Multa doesn’t have time to ask Aofil to elaborate before they grab a backpack and slam the money down on the counter.

“Hold on! Let me ring it up before you...” the cashier yells as Aofil heads for the doors.

“Oh, deary me!” shrieks the speakers as a shimmering wall is erected before Aofil. “What do we have here? A thief?”

The field comes down as quickly as it emerged, and the cashier tells Aofil that it’s fine to leave now. Aofil fails to thank them as they blend back into the crowd.

Why do they insist on gambling on other people understanding their situation? Why are they still naive about it? Aofil’s the only one in the world, the only one ever, to have a situation as ridiculous, yet dangerous, as theirs. Of course they’ve thought about asking the monsters! Of course they’ve tried to stop and listen! They want to, but they can’t. They are physically unable to!

This interview they’re heading to, it’s just a waste of time. Another of Aofil’s attempts to bend reality their way. Another attempt to deny that they’re cursed. If they’re so set on leaving Tylior and the others behind, why aren’t they doing it? Why are they so afraid of people not saluting them as a hero? Why are they not just cutting their losses, again? Why aren’t they leaving behind what they promise themselves to leave behind?

They’re just doing the same thing they did with the monsters! It’s a damn circle that they insist on rounding again and again.

Taking the weight even though they know it’ll hurt them. Not asking for help, because no one can help them. They’re alone in this, yet they’re doing it for others. If only they could have someone that could help them.

But doing so would mean reliving what they cast away.

Is it worth it?

Aofil doesn’t know.

A brick building stands at the end of a raked path. Beautifully trimmed bushes and hedges stand on either side. Aofil recognizes the skillful work.

A large sign above the entrance informs the name with a gorgeous font.

‘Above School’

Aofil opens the double door.

“Oh, you must be today’s human teacher,” smiles the receptionist. “Two doors down that hall to your left,” he points with a tentacle.

Aofil makes their way down the corridor, deep in thought. What should they do? Are they gonna fail the interview? That way they can actually leave things behind them for once. They made a promise though, but again, it seems that it will kill them in keeping it. Maybe not now, but later, when they can’t stand their own thoughts any longer.

Aofil sinks down heavily into a chair inside the room the receptionist pointed out. They sit alone with their thoughts for a solid minute before they hear the door open behind them.

“Forgive me, human, if you had to wait.”

Aofil shakes their head. “No problem, I didn’t have to wait long,” and turns to meet their interviewer.

No…

“Your interviewer called in sick just a couple of minutes ago. I just got word about it, and hurried here.”

It can’t be…

“So, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” a gentle claw opens the dossier, “Aofi-”

A thick blanket falls over the small room, suffocating any sound produced. A quivering muzzle is lifted, and even more quivering eyes meet Aofil’s. A pair of spectacles is lifted away, as a disbelieving sniffle breaks the silence. The chair complains as the weight is lifted off it, and the purple robe drags on the table as it rounds it.

A soft blend of fur and skin cups Aofil’s chin with the utmost care. Aofil wants to turn away.

But feeling the warmth caressing their cheek...

Maybe it’s time they face their problems. Maybe it’s time they explain it. Maybe it’s time for Aofil to ask for help, to not bear the weight alone any longer. It’s time for them to stop running. Despite them sprinting in the marathon of life, their past has caught up with them. It’s asking Aofil to come home. To come home to their family. They might not be able to replace, they know they can’t.

Aofil feels the eyes plead to them. Plead for them not to give in to their curse. They can’t do it alone, but they don’t have to. They need a family to help them.

And that is the family they want to be for Aofil. Why didn’t Aofil see that?

But is it worth it?

Aofil doesn’t know.

Is Aofil ready?

They’ll never be.

The fur on Aofil’s arm is tingling, but Aofil allows the gentle hand to stroke their chin. They allow the tears to fall and stain their lap, and they allow the white ears to flop against them as they’re embraced.

And then, the tingling stops. Gone like the wind. The worries, the anger, the fear. Maybe only for a second, but to Aofil, it’s an eternity.

“Hello, Toriel.”


	11. A principal's principals

“So,” Toriel closes the door behind Aofil, “this is your office, Toriel?”

“I insisted on it being the same size as the others, but since I’m the headmaster it needed to be bigger for logistical and ceremonial reasons.”

Aofil takes the seat Toriel offers. “Ceremonial?”

Toriel sits down on hers, but it doesn’t complain. “I was quick to call out Asgore on his language, but he promised me that it was necessary. I’m still hesitant towards the reasons he brought up, but I can’t admit that I don’t like it a bit more roomy.”

"Oh, just look at me," Toriel laughs while realizing that her eyes are still wet. "I've gone and stained not only my dress, but your shirt as well, human. What a silly mess I am." She hangs her eyes on Aofil, and her eyes are immediately filled with water again. "Oh my,” she laughs again, “you’re a bit more distorted than before,” and moves her finger up to her eyes again, “or am I crying again?”

“It’s been a while, Toriel,” Aofil admits with a lowered head.

“Very much so, human,” Toriel scoffs. Tears land on her desk. “Just listen to me, I’m still calling you human, and not your name. Guess I haven’t shaken that off yet.”

“How do you feel seeing me, Toriel?”

“What do you mean by that? I’m overjoyed, nothing less. Why would you ask such a question? You know I would never think less of you. Despite what happened. Never, my human.”

Aofil still has to pry, they must know. “You don’t feel like your mind is hurting? You still call me human.” Aofil’s worried. Wait, they’re worried?

Toriel curses herself under her breath. “Forgive me, Aofil. I want to say that it’s just a slip of my tongue, but it would be unfair to you to lie like that. You’re my human, Aofil. You're our human, along with Frisk. Frisk saved us from the Underground, and you welcomed us to the Surface. There hasn’t been anyone else these past years that have come close to you. I’ve met so many wonderful humans, but no one like you. No one has touched my soul quite like you did, Aofil. No one has done the things you’ve done for us. You’re our human, Aofil, but calling you that isn’t healthy. We live together now, and such language is something that we should’ve left in the Underground. I hope you can have patience with this old goat, Aofil. I promise you that I’ll make an honest effort in calling you by your name from now on.”

Aofil nods in thanks, but something else is on their mind. Something that Toriel appeared to just say in passing, but to Aofil it’s a wall of a word. “So you’re a goat now? Not a monster?”

Toriel smiles a proud smile. “The first step is to accept it, right? And lead by example? If I correct people and tell them that I am a monster, then I would be dismissing what I’m trying to make the norm. It's my way of easing the tensions between us, and I'm making it a rule of mine to not address someone as human. I have to be a goat, so that one day monsters and humans may be equal. So that we don’t have to refer to us as species, but rather a united people. True, the words will never disappear, but I can take the edge off them. If I have to be called a goat for it to happen, then I'll gladly do it. I couldn't in the Underground, but times have changed.”

“So you’re comfortable with being a goat?”

“Truth be told,” Toriel’s shoulders sink as she heaves a tired sigh, “no. Maybe one day I can visit the zoo again, but not in the foreseeable future.”

She has to be poking Aofil’s curiosity willingly, she just has to. “The zoo?”

Toriel rubs her forehead. “Asgore’s idea. He wanted to show the little ones the animals that inhabit the Surface, for them to learn more about them. I saw through his lie though, he wanted to go there himself. He has this smile when he’s embarrassingly excited over something. The fact that he isn’t embarrassed over it now makes it worse. He should be embarrassed, but he isn’t. He was more childish than the kids once we arrived. When we got to the petting zoo...”

Toriel shakes her head and heaves another deep and annoyed sigh, “He,” and moves her hand from her forehead to over her mouth. It doesn’t cover her growing smile though, “he just stopped and stared at them, and them at him. The king of the monsters, mesmerized by a herd of goats.”

“Did he find his true people?”

Toriel quells a laugh. “Don’t say those things, Aofil. Now I’m questioning it.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be, I’d rather laugh than contemplate over it. Anyways, after realizing that he wouldn’t realize, I walked up to him and dragged him back by the horns. He bleated, and his people bleated in return.”

Aofil tries their hardest to keep a straight face. “Really?”

“Why did I ever marry that fool?” Toriel wonders out loud.

“Has he done something like that before?”

“Only once, long ago, when we were still in the Underground. We were on a picnic with Char...” Toriel’s mouth shuts close, but it’s too late. They both know who she means.

“Yeah...” is the only thing Aofil can say. “You probably were...”

Toriel reaches out for Aofil’s hand and lays hers over theirs. “I never had time to ask for your forgiveness, Aofil. About Chara. Asgore and me, we had our suspicions about your relationship with them. Mostly about your cheeks.” Toriel’s own stretch into a warm and nostalgic smile. She blinks away a couple of new tears before nodding. “You and Chara have the same ones, Aofil. Your human parents must’ve been very fond of them. Did they have those as well?”

Aofil drags their hand out from underneath Toriel’s. “No, they weren’t, not when Chara was still with us. Chara and I,” Aofil takes a deep breath, “we’re cursed.”

Toriel nods slowly. “I know.”

Her eyes show no signs of lying, only understanding. Aofil struggles to form words. “H-how?”

“When you left us,” Toriel struggles to form her words as well, “and as Frisk was explaining to us why, we were approached by the caretaker of the cemetery. He expressed interest over why monsters were among his flock. No anger, just curiosity. When he saw which grave we were in front of though, his tone shifted. Again, not to anger, but of grief, and remorse. He watched the smoke trails of the car you left in dissipate, and then he invited us in for tea.”

Aofil knew that they would find out given enough time, that one day they would know about Chara, Aofil, and their family. Still, Aofil feels like they’ve failed somehow, but they don’t know in which way. Despite it feeling like a stone to ask, Aofil feels like they have to. “Did he?”

Toriel nods again. “Yes, he told us about your family, about you and Chara. About your curse. In a sense, I was relieved to know why Chara behaved the way they did. All this time I thought it was something Asgore or I did, something we didn’t understand we were doing wrong. We did our best in raising them, making them family, and showing them that they indeed were the hope of the Underground. Yet, I could tell that there was something underneath, something that they were hiding from us, something that, despite me promising Chara that they could share anything that burdened their soul.” Toriel stops to put a worried fist up to her muzzle. “Saying it out loud now, I now know why they didn’t answer me. I couldn’t have chosen worse words to say.”

Toriel steadies her voice with a deep breath. “There was always something distant in Chara, but there was so much more love too. They were the hope of the Underground, they were family to us. We loved Chara, with all of our souls, but it was impossible for them to love us back equally. They did their best, they did their very best. Looking back, I feel a bit disgusted feeling relief over knowing that it wasn’t our fault. Asgore as well. When we heard the pastor explain the curse, Asgore and I, we shared a look, and a smile, but as the pastor continued, our smiles melted away.”

Aofil braces themselves, but they know it won’t help. Toriel does so as well.

“About what happened that day which I want to forget, but know that I can’t. When our children died.”

Here it comes.

“And when you died, Aofil.”

Here it comes…

“I...” Aofil’s throat clogs up. There isn’t a single piece of them that want to talk about it.

Toriel makes her way around the desk. She knows what’s coming. She puts her hand on their cheek before they have time to fall into the memory. Aofil grabs hold of her purple dress, and pulls it closer to them. They need something to hold on to, they need to stay in the now, they can’t fall back. The pain, the fear. Aofil knows it, from both sides. They know their own fear, and Chara’s fear. One is enough to be thrown into despair, but both?

Aofil hardens their grip, but Toriel allows them. “Whenever you’re ready,” she calms with a gentle thumb, brushing away Aofil’s hair from their eyes.

A minute or two passes before Aofil feels steady enough to continue on their own. They’re still teetering on the edge, but they know that Toriel’s there to catch them if they fall. Aofil takes a deep breath. “Continue.”

“For as much as he wanted to, the pastor couldn’t forgive us for that which we had done, or the other kids that were killed. We told him that neither could we, and he thanked us for that. In time, he could perhaps be able to forgive us, but never our actions. Aofil,” Toriel tilts Aofil’s head to meet hers, “could you?”

“Toriel,” they cry.

“You don’t have to, Aofil. It’s not fair of me to ask you to either.”

“I want to.”

Toriel embraces Aofil, and presses her cheek against Aofil’s back. “Thank you,” she whispers with a quivering voice. “Thank you.”

“I want to so much.”

“That is so much more than you have to,” she whispers again as she returns to her seat. “The pastor then apologized for making demands, but he had to insist that we should tell the truth about the kids that fell. About what happened to them. What we did to them. Asgore, there was something about him that made the pastor stop speaking. Then, with only a look, he convinced the pastor that he would. I couldn’t see it through his hanging hair, but the pastor nodded with immense relief. I asked Asgore later what he did, but Asgore just smiled and told me that he did what a king should do. I didn’t agree with him not telling me, but at the trial, it all made sense.”

With their shirt arm Aofil dries of as much moisture as they can from their face. “How was it? What happened?”

“He took all the blame.” Toriel clenches her fist. Aofil can tell that she’s holding in a lot of anger. “Granted, as he should. What he did, what he almost did to Frisk. What I almost did to Frisk. The Underground was our prison, and we were desperate. There was another way, I’m sure of it. I don’t know how, but there had to be a way for us to escape without the heinous acts we did! Why did I leave him alone to do these things? What kind of queen was I? I could’ve helped, yet I abandoned the human kids to their death!”

Aofil opens up the top button of their shirt as they feel the air around them heat up. They reach their head over the desk to meet with Toriel. Her eyes are burning, and almost in the literal sense as well. “Toriel!” they shout to try and snap her back. “It’s in the past. You’re free now, you’re on the Surface. I’m here, your human is here.”

Toriel’s clenching fists relaxes, and she moves them up to her face. She runs her hands over her rapidly breathing muzzle. “Thank you, Aofil.”

“From what I’ve heard, you’ve done more than enough to make up for what you did, Toriel. You’re a headmaster on a school on the Surface. You’re interviewing humans to teach monster children. You’ve come so far, Toriel. Don’t fall back. Don’t return.”

The last words echo inside Aofil’s head. “Don’t return,” they whisper to themselves. Aofil puts their hand on their fur covered arm. The fur is tense, probably from Toriel’s aura. Should Aofil take a pill? Or will that be too suspicious?

“Do you have a bathroom nearby, Toriel? I heard there aren’t many here in the Monster City.”

Toriel picks up her glasses and composes herself. “Certainly, Aofil. I plan to have humans working here, don’t I?”

Her chuckle isn’t as joyful as she wanted it to be, but Aofil pretends they didn’t notice. “Where?”

“A bit further down the corridors. Would you like for me to fetch some tea for you when you return? Maybe a slice of pie?”

“Water, please,” Aofil asks with a smile as they open the door. Toriel’s smile is again not as sincere as she would’ve wanted it to be, but Aofil again pretends it is.

A inconspicuous glowing sign with the text ‘Human Toilets’ hangs over a door. Aofil takes a wild guess and enters it, only to find that they were completely right in their gamble. They rinse their face to alleviate some stress, and the heavy exhale they shed afterwards proves that it was a very good idea.

The pop of their bottle bounces around the room, but there’s no one else in it so Aofil isn’t too worried. They swallow one along with some water.

Three hard knocks on the door has Aofil choking on the water they just swallowed.

“Um, excuse me? How long until your interview is finished?”

Aofil doesn’t recognize the voice.

“I don’t,” they cough loudly, “know.”

“Sorry for bothering you.”

When Aofil manages to suppress their coughing and opens the door, the knocker isn’t there. The corridor is empty. After all these years on the Surface, have they still not learned that humans like to have some privacy from time to time?

Nothing has changed, even after all these years.

Aofil returns to an empty office. It takes a couple of minutes, but Toriel finally comes back with a tray. A jug of water along with some glasses are on it, and she pours one for Aofil who takes a mouthful to remove the last of their cough. Why she didn’t use the water cooler in the corner of her office is a bit suspicious though.

“I want you to come work here, Aofil,” she firmly states.

Why can’t she wait until Aofil’s done with their drinking before interrupting? Toriel stretches out a hand, but Aofil motions for her to sit back down. “Just give me a second.”

“And I’m going to insist on you accepting.”

Aofil fakes a few more coughs as they work their brain to try and figure something out. Toriel isn’t buying it though.

“We will arrange living for you close by, and for transport of your belongings here.”

“Toriel.”

“No!” Her eyes are watering up again, but her face is stern, commanding, yet still sorrowful. “I am not going to let you continue down this path, Aofil. Your place is here, with your friends. With your family. We want to help. Let us. Please.”

Aofil digs in their heels. “And what about the friends and family I have at the moment?”

“I know that you’re planning on leaving them.”

“How?” the question is vicious like poison.

“Sans and Frisk told me.”

They did? Did they tell her about Aofil’s arm as well? She’s not looking at it, so perhaps not. Still, is that why she took so long? Dammit, this wasn’t what Aofil had in mind. “What did they tell you?”

“That you’re hurting, and that you can’t ask for help.”

“And my allergy to magic?”

“Alphys can help you with that,” Toriel replies without missing a beat.

“And what about the things she can’t help me with?”

“We have human doctors here.”

Aofil runs a hand through their hair with an accompanying and irritated exhale. “Toriel, with all due respect, no. I can’t work with you.”

“This isn’t the human that welcomed us into their home, Aofil. This isn’t the human that did their all in teaching this new world for the little ones, and the human that enjoyed every second of it.”

“That was before,” Aofil feels a strong need to remind.

“Then come back to before, Aofil.”

“I can’t ask for you help.”

“And that’s where you’re wrong. That’s why you’re feeling the way you do. You have to put trust in your friends and family. We’re here for you, never forget that...”

Aofil averts their eyes.

“Chara,” Toriel finishes. Her hand shoots up to her mouth again, but again, it’s too late.

Aofil scoffs tiredly. “I sure am their twin, aren’t I?”

“Aofil, forgive me. I didn’t mean...” She can’t finish her lie, Aofil hears it. They both sit in silence while they contemplate what the other said.

Eventually Aofil sighs, and returns their eyes to Toriel’s. She struggles to keep hers still. “Do I have to?”

Toriel nods. “You have to. For your own sake.”

“And that’s the only sake?”

Toriel looks down, and her ears flop down on the desk. “No, not even close.”

Aofil looks at their arm, and recalls that Toriel hasn’t done it once. Maybe there is a chance? Alphys made them like this, perhaps she can undo it as well? What about the others? What about the memories that are sure to flood back? They need advice.

Aofil has to return to their family, before they can return to their family.

“Toriel.”

She nods. “Yes?”

“Can you get me to Mt. Ebott? Please don’t ask me why.”

“Will you return here afterwards?”

“That’s why I need to figure out. Mom studied law, she could help me smooth things over.”

“Your mom?”

“I said ‘please’, Toriel.”

She retracts her hand, and puts it over her chest. “Forgive me. Yes, I’ll arrange for someone to drive you there.”

“Papyrus?”

Toriel’s stunned silence confirms Aofil’s suspicion.

“Sounds good, actually,” they smile. “I could use his optimism right about now.”

Toriel picks up her phone, and dials the number. “Then I’ll be pleased to inform you that he’s still the same Papyrus since the last you saw him.”

“Glad to hear that.”

After a short phone call Toriel stands up and motions for the door. “Papyrus is busy this evening, unfortunately. I’ll call a taxi for you at the front desk, and wait with you until it arrive.”

Aofil follows her to the door. “Thank you.”

“And if it isn’t too much to ask, could I invite you over for dinner later today?” Toriel opens the door and holds it for Aofil. “If you decide to stay, that is?”

It’s been a while since Aofil’s felt this warmth inside them, but they welcome it with open arms. “Yes, I’d love to.”

“Mom!”

It’s that voice again.

“Oh, Asriel,” Toriel answers.

Asriel?

“I just wanted to say that I’m probably gonna be late for dinner today. Fuku and her friend need a cameraman. It’s been a while since I’ve filmed something so I thought...”

Aofil’s eyes widen as much as Asriel’s when the two of them meet. Asriel’s thumb falls down from over his shoulder, and is left hanging in stunned disbelief.

A smirk grows on Toriel’s lips. “I’m afraid you’ll have to decline that, Asriel. Aofil needs someone to drive them to Mt. Ebott, and you need some more experience for your license test later this month.”

She fishes up a pair of keys from her handbag. “I’ll pick it up from the parking. You two wait at the front.”

Suppressed giggling can be heard from Toriel as she makes her way down the corridor.


	12. A new road to an old home

"I've driven there a thousand times, mom!"

"No, you’ve not, my dear. There's also construction on our usual road, Asriel. You'll have to take an earlier left to drive around it."

Aofil sits down in the passenger seat while Asriel readjusts the driver's seat, and the rear view mirror. He wipes away some fluff above his eyebrow and starts the car.

"Be home by dinner," Toriel reminds as she waves the two off in her car. Aofil catches a relieved smile on her as Asriel turns out on the street.

"Indicators, Asriel," Aofil comments.

"Come on," he sighs. "There isn't a car in sight."

"It's to make sure it's in your muscle memory at the test. Trust me on that. You miss it once and you fail."

Asriel opens the sunroof to let some of the sweet evening air in, “Yeah, yeah,” but by doing so, he fails to see the warning sign about construction in the middle of the road.

Aofil elbows his side. “Asriel!”

The car comes to screeching halt just barely in front of the sign. Asriel eases the car to the sidewalk, and Aofil sees his stone grip on the steering wheel. His breathing is sharp, Aofil must’ve startled him. “Close one. You gotta be careful, Asriel. Toriel said that there was construction here as well.”

“Just,” Asriel calms his breathing, “give me a minute. Did mom see?”

Aofil is a bit taken back by the question. “I’m not sure.”

“Just look!” Asriel swirls his head towards Aofil. His ear flop against his panicked face. “Please!”

Aofil tries to calm with a subtle wave of their hand. “Sure, I’m looking.” They lean over their seat, but all they see is road and buildings. No momma goat. “She didn’t see,” Aofil relays as they return their eyes to Asriel. “Hopefully she didn’t hear either.”

“Yeah,” Asriel starts the engine again, “that would’ve been bad.”

“Why would she follow you? She worried a lot about you?” Aofil decides to pry.

Asriel doesn’t answer since he’s too busy trying to calm himself. Aofil again checks over their shoulder, but there’s still no Toriel rushing towards the car.

“Listen, Asriel. Mistakes happen, and yes, this was a scary one, but if you learn from it, then it’ll be something positive in the end.”

"You have a license?" Asriel asks after some sharp breathing.

"Yes, but I haven't driven in ages. Last time was when I was out with my famil…" Aofil halts their tongue by biting on it. “Make a three point turn and then take the left that Toriel said you would. It’s a right now, by the way.”

“I know,” the car starts moving again. “I’m not stupid.”

Construction is well under way, that’s for sure. The main street that Aofil walked on earlier is complete, but the further away from it the less complete the area is. Humans and monsters are working together, using both machine and magic. Explains why they’ve come so far in so little time. It looks nice, hopefully Aofil can join with them sometime. If they can, is what they have to answer first. The interview is still in progress even though Aofil landed the job. They’ve convinced their employer to hire them, now they only have to convince themselves. That’s probably gonna be harder.

“So,” Aofil begins as the car ventures past the construction. Now Asriel can actually hear what Aofil want to say. What do they want to say though? No idea, really. “So,” they wonder, “how have you’ve been?”

Asriel shrugs his shoulders, and again misses to indicate. “I don’t know. Good? I don’t really know how to answer, to be honest. I’m alive, I guess.”

Aofil nods. “You’re alive.”

“So you know, I got that going for me.”

“Should keep on doing that. I heard it’s good for you.”

Asriel smacks his lips. “Yup.”

“You still filming stuff, by the way?”

Asriel wants to turn his head towards Aofil, but his eyes are glued to the road. “What do you mean by ‘still’?”

“Just slipped out,” Aofil deflects with a shrug of their own.

“Yeah, I like to film stuff. I’m pretty good with editing as well, I think. Did a skateboard video with Fuku and her friend. It was fun, but there wasn’t really much I could do with the angles. She’s good, but not great. I think once she gets more comfortable I can get more creative with my shots.”

“Sounds fun,” Aofil nods. “My brother tried to teach me some tricks, but it didn’t really work with me. Other things you like to do?”

“Aofil, what is it you really want to ask me?”

He’s got Aofil on that one. Better to just lay the cards on the table. “How is it being alive?”

“It’s been normal for a while,” Asriel sighs. “Until you asked.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s just, I don’t want to talk about what happened. I want to forget about,” Asriel’s grip hardens on the steering wheel, squeezing the leather, “him.”

“Him that you were?”

Asriel nods without opening his mouth. He’s too busy biting his tongue so that he doesn’t scream.

“But you’re you? You’re not him?”

“No.” Asriel hangs on the word, drags it out. It’s bitter, and angry. Like an old infected wound, and Aofil just dumped a handful of salt into it. “I’m, Not. Him.”

“You’re Asriel, prince of the monsters.”

He nods.

“Living on the surface with the humans. What you set out to do with...”

“Stop!” Asriel growls. “Not their name. It’s difficult enough looking at you without having my memories flood back.”

“Could say the same to you, Asriel.”

“Yeah,” Asriel takes one hand off the wheel and leans on it. “I guess you can,” he agrees with a heavy heave of his shoulders.

The city gives way to an empty, yet recently paved, road. Just a few cars, and the majority are heading for the city. Aofil decides not to debate Asriel on his choice of hands on the steering wheel. Seems empty enough, and Asriel isn’t on the weaker side of creatures. Quite the opposite. Aofil can tell that he’s going to take after Asgore.

“Who are you, Aofil?” Asriel decides to ask after a couple of minutes of silent driving. “They all speak of you as if you were a savior. I mean, yes, you did bring me back. And I guess I didn’t thank you for it.”

“Say nothing of it.”

“I’d rather not to, so thanks.”

Aofil is suddenly aware of the fur on their arm. “Same here.”

“But, what they say about you is just so, Frisk.”

Aofil furrows their brow. “You make it sound like a bad thing.”

“I know, but...”

“You still have something deep down that still resents me? Is that it?”

“No.”

Aofil can tell that Asriel is lying. “Something deep down that resents Frisk?” Aofil tries again.

“No,” Asriel shakes his head tiredly. “Yes. I love them with all of my soul. They’re my sibling, and more so than...”

The steering wheel has its leather squeezed again.

“But, I also know what they’ve done before. Frisk did what I did. They...”

Aofil sees Asriel’s muzzle retract in anger, but before they can make an attempt to calm, Asriel makes a sharp turn into an empty truck stop. He unbuckles his belt and storms out of the car, leaving the key inside.

The seat belt alarm warns with a soft and repeating plinging before Aofil removes the key. They follow Asriel, but keeps their distance as he makes his way down to a nearby lake. He stands on the edge, and picks up a stone.

He bounces it in his hand before lunging it over the water. It reaches way further than Aofil would’ve imagined. Asriel picks up a bigger one, and again throws it with all his might. It makes a larger splash as it lands, and the drops glitter in the setting sun before rejoining the disturbed water. Asriel sits down with a third stone in his hand. This one he isn’t throwing though, this one he’s clenching.

The ripples from the latest impact hit the shoreline after some time, and Asriel flicks the last stone into the water. It lands with a plop, and the new ripples collide with the old ones. The old are more powerful though, and wash up against the shore despite the new ones fighting against them.

Asriel looks out over the blue and orange water in front of him. “How old do you think I am, Aofil?”

“About the same age as Frisk?” Aofil answers while still keeping their distance. Asriel needs the space, and Aofil would rather not that their fur reacts to Asriel’s anger.

“My body is, that I’m sure of. Not a damn clue how, I’m just sure of it. But me? I don’t know. I should be just another teenager. I should be worrying about friends, about being cool. The fact that I’m analyzing this is just proof that I’m not, in fact, a teenager. I’ve seen so many things, I’ve done so many things. I learned everything there was about the Underground, both good and bad. I don’t remember it all, but I remember learning it. So when the subject is brought up in school, I just sigh at it.”

Aofil lifts up a hand from their crossed arm. “Out of the blue it just sounds like normal teenage stuff to me.”

Asriel nods as he lowers his head. “Yeah...”

“But I know that your sky is clouded, very clouded.”

“Damn thunderstorm.”

“I’d say hurricane. You’ve been through much, Asriel.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“You live with people you’ve killed.”

“I just told you.”

“I’m talking to you as an equal on that part," Aofil makes very clear with. "Same with Frisk. I’m having trouble looking at them myself.”

“Difference being that you two also saved the monsters. Whereas I...”

“I saved them with your help,” Aofil adds. “And so did Frisk.”

“I wasn’t thrilled about it afterwards.”

“Neither was I,” Aofil intercepts with a sigh.

“And I only did it because of Frisk.” Asriel runs his hands over his face, “It’s just,” and then drags the same tired hands over his head, “it’s like everyone was disappointed, you know? I came back, and nothing magical happened, you know?”

Aofil furrows their brow. “They weren’t happy to see you?”

“Yes, they were. Mom, dad, it was so good to finally feel loved again, and to love in return, but I just feel like they expected more.”

“I’m not sure that either Toriel or Asgore could expect more than having their dead son back.”

“Yes! But I felt like they felt that it could’ve been more.”

Aofil summons a calming smile, “I think you’re putting too much pressure on yourself,” but it doesn’t help.

“But I’m back! I was the hope of the Underground, and I’m back! I was supposed to be the new chapter, but it started without me. It’s like I’m a footnote. Now that I’m here, I haven’t done anything close to what you and Frisk have.”

“Do you have to?”

Asriel bursts up on his feet, “I’m the reason everything happened!” and throws his arm out towards the glistening lake. “I’m the reason we monsters have this!” His quick breathing slows down, and his arm drops down to his side. “I’m the reason that the trial happened. The riots. I’m the reason the kids were killed…” Asriel knees weaken, and he sits down, hard. Aofil wonders if it hurt, but Asriel isn’t showing any pain. Not physical, that is. “How am I supposed to make up for so many deaths? Seeing the parents of the kids. Seeing their eyes inspect every piece of me. It was because of me that their child had to die. And I’m just...”

“A normal monster teenager,” Aofil interrupts.

Asriel scoffs, “As if. I wish it was,” and curls his legs up while putting his arms over them. “Sometimes I wish that the Barrier would’ve been unbreakable. At least then no one had to die for me. I would still have Char-” Asriel moves his eyes towards Aofil. He hangs on them, their hair, their cheeks, their eyes. “You sure do look like them,” he says with a worried sigh. Asriel lays his muzzle on his knees, looking over the burning orange water. It reflects in his eyes.

The same as Toriel’s.

Aofil sighs as well. “So I’ve heard.”

“Could you do me a favor, Aofil?”

“Sure thing.”

“Could you just,” Asriel stops to think, like he’s debating if it’s a good idea or not, “bend your chin down, and smile?”

Aofil instead hardens their gaze. “Asriel,” they remind sternly, “I’m not Chara.”

Asriel scoffs again. “Was a very different tone when you first tried to convince me.”

“Because how otherwise would I have convinced Flowey?”

Asriel’s arms tightens around his knees. “And the extractor.”

“That was Sans’ idea.”

Asriel averts his eyes. “He told me it was yours.”

Aofil growls. “Of course he would.”

“And then you pressed me down against the ground.”

“Look, Asriel,” Aofil extends a hand towards Asriel, but he swats it away.

“All I’ve heard from mom and the others have been nothing but praise, but all of my memories of you are you holding me against the cold dirt and then almost strangling me while staring at me like you’re about to kill me.” Asriel’s muzzle wrinkles, but Aofil can’t tell if it’s from fear or anger. “You roared at me to forget about Chara, and that I had to build a better future for the monsters.” Asriel releases his legs and throws a finger against Aofil. “You’re the reason I’m like this! You told me to forget about Chara, and then you acted worse than them. How did you think I was supposed to forget about them when you told me something worse was in store for me?”

Aofil doesn’t know how to answer.

“And then mom and the others told me about how great you were! My entire being sinks every time I hear something about you.”

“I’m sorry, Asriel.”

“That’s not enough!”

“Then what is enough?”

“I,” Asriel quells a sob, “I don’t know,” but he can’t hold his tears back. He again returns his head to his knees, but this time it’s bent down. His entire body shakes with every sob.

Aofil again reaches a hand out for Asriel, but they retract it. “You miss Chara?”

Asriel nods faintly.

“And I’m reminding you of them?”

Another weak nod.

“Do you want me to come back?”

No answer.

“I’m sorry,” Aofil repeats.

No answer.

“You haven’t had anyone to talk about this to, right? Toriel? Asgore?”

“I can’t talk to them about Chara, or about how I was. It would flip their world over, and this time we don’t have me to bring back to fix it.”

“Yeah, it probably would. But, for as much as we remember what happened, and what we did during those times, they don’t actually matter right now. They never happened.”

Asriel averts his eyes, “Easy for you to say,” and flexes his fist.

“But not to accept. I’ve been through one of these resets, and that’s way too much for me. The fact that you’re living a normal life despite everything that transpired is incredibly strong of you. I know that you’ve just met me, but I might also be the only one you can talk to. And you might be the only one I can talk to. Frisk doesn’t open their mouth for me. Do you know why, by the way?”

Asriel scratches his head. “Haven’t really asked.”

“To be fair you had no reason to. Would love to know though. They’re quite the flirty type, or so I heard they were down in the Underground.”

A small smile grows on Asriel. “I remember being so sick about how nice they were to all the monster. Dry heaving with every childish flirt they did. When they flexed with Aaron, sang with Shyren.”

“It feels a bit different now that you can feel?”

“Sure does,” Asriel’s smile fades. “I still hate to think back to those times.”

“You smiled though,” Aofil reminds, “isn’t that a good sign? You’re thinking back to it as Asriel, not as Flowey.”

“Maybe.”

“It’ll just feel like a bad dream in a couple of years, Asriel.” Aofil puts their hand on Asriel’s shoulder again. “Trust me. You have such wonderful people around you. Frisk, your parents, Undyne, the list goes on.”

“What about you?”

“Sorry for doing what I did.”

Asriel shakes his head. “Not that. What about it feeling like a bad dream to you?”

“I,” Aofil takes back their hand, “I don’t know. I need some advice.”

“You’re telling me to forget about Chara, but you’re still holding on to your family?”

Aofil nods, defeated. “Yeah...”

“Chara was my best friend.”

“I know.”

Asriel's eyes shift into a soft plead. “Could I talk to your parents as well?”

“I guess I didn’t show you my and Chara’s room like I promised.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“We’ll see,“ Aofil lifts their head. The lake is bright orange, and the sun is shining directly into their eyes. They stand up. “We should probably get going.” Aofil reaches into their pocket and hands the keys to Asriel. “It’ll be night soon.”

Asriel grabs the keys from Aofil’s hand and brushes himself off as he heads up to the truck stop. Aofil follows, and seats themselves into the passenger seat again.

“Indicators,” they remind to Asriel as he starts the car. Asriel nods, and indicates when he turns out to the road again.

Mt. Ebott is again casting its shadow over Aofil. Again they’re back. Their city hasn’t changed much in their absent. The same people, just a bit older. More monsters are walking the streets though. Asriel stops at a red light, and out the window Aofil sees two humans and two monsters enjoying the last rays of the day. One human leans into the others, and after some talking they all burst into laughter.

The light turns green, and the laughter is drowned out by the engine noise.

“Take a right next intersection,” Aofil instructs.

“But the sign says straight ahead?”

“It’s less traffic this way.”

It’s also a road that doesn’t pass Aofil’s old house, but Asriel doesn’t have to know that. Is Aofil being unfair? Probably, but it’s not like they can enter it. Aofil sold it, it’s not theirs anymore. They’ve no idea who owns it though, not that it’s important. They got the money, and that was all that mattered.

“We’re here.”

Aofil stops Asriel as he’s about to exit the car. “Give me five minutes alone, please.”

Asriel halts with the seat belt wrapped up over his arm. “I guess. Wave me over once you're done.”

“Thanks. I really mean it.”

The gravel path is once again disturbed.

The iron gate squeaks as it’s opened.

“It has been awhile, hasn’t it?”


	13. Bane of the curse

"Yeah, I know," Aofil takes a seat on the nearby bench. They lean forward with their chin on their knuckles, "last time was dramatic. I was..."

The nearby aspen hushes Aofil as the wind blows through it. Aofil feels their shoulders sink down, almost as if they're about to fall off. The wind blows through them. It's mild, calm. It caresses Aofil's cheeks. They want to imagine it as a hand, but they fail to. It's too cold for them. Not warm enough to be real, at least not for Aofil.

God, how they wished it was.

"Sorry," they whisper to the wind, "I just can't."

The aspen quiets down.

A small smirk grows on Aofil's lips. "For all of my talk about families and how I could never replace you. I guess I've already replaced you. I tried to imagine your hand, mom, but it wasn't a human hand that immediately popped into my head. It was Toriel’s. It’s human now, at least."

Aofil runs their hands over their face as they lean back into the bench. “Ho boy, these years. Or, to be more specific, this week. I had almost forgotten you, and I don’t mean forgotten you.”

A small gust bursts the aspen for a short second.

“Yes, yes, let me explain.” Aofil looks around to make sure that they’re alone. Asriel is in the car, slowly bobbing his head to some music. Other than that it’s as dead as a graveyard…

Aofil shakes away the thought, and rolls up their sleeve. The fur on their arm shines whiter than ever. Must be the sun. “See this?” they ask as they flash their arm towards the grave. “It’s a nice little catalyst for my curse. Pretty sure it’s because I have a piece of Asriel’s soul inside mine. Not gonna bother to look, because frankly, I don’t want to know.”

Aofil rolls their sleeve back down. “So, I tried to distant myself from the monsters, and you as well. I figured, if I could leave anything magical behind, then I could perhaps control it. That includes my soul, so that includes you. It was why I left. Not the single reason, but it was a reason nonetheless. The biggest as well, and I didn’t make it lightly. All I had to do to bring back him,” Aofil nods towards the car, “it was just too much for me. Heck, even the reset was too much for me. It was probably too much for me that the monsters even existed. So when I finally felt that I was done, I cut the cord. I couldn’t look at them anymore, there was too much hurt. I was never meant to be with them. I was meant to be with you, but here we are.”

The aspen is quiet, not a sound from it. Aofil lowers their head in shame. “If you’re mad at me for thinking like that, then you’ll be happy to know that it didn’t really work, since the more I did to avoid, the more monsters became involved. I had to settle for something, so I decided to just not think about anything, or anyone, from here.”

Aofil feels the muscles in their cheeks tense, “That worked,” and their eyes filling up. “Because...” The words clog their throat. “Because now I realize that I can barely remember your faces.”

The wind sings through the aspen. The leafs shake violently, screaming at Aofil. “I’m so sorry...” they whimper. The wind reaches Aofil, and again it brushes against their cheek. It’s warm this time.

Aofil’s scoff throws the tears off their face. “Still not enough...”

But the wind doesn’t stop.

“I miss you.”

It keeps blowing.

“What should I do?”

“You could start by moving over, my child.”

Aofil snaps their head towards the voice, “Oh,” and dries off the remaining moisture from their face while scooting to the side.

They’re handed a handkerchief. “No need to be embarrassed, Aofil.”

Aofil denies it. “It’s fine.”

“You sure?”

Aofil nods. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

The frock dances in the wind as the pastor sits down next to Aofil. He takes a deep breath, and exhales calmly. “It’s been a while. I’m pleased to see you again, Aofil.”

“Sure has,” Aofil answers distantly.

The winds doesn’t slow down, but that doesn’t detest the pastor. He lets the wind drag and pull at every seam of his frock. “Are you coming back?” he asks with his eyes closed in enjoyment.

“Well, I’m here.”

The pastor lets out a light chuckle before again breathing deeply through his nose. “It’s a relief hearing you say that, Aofil. Even with everything you’ve been through, you’re still you.”

Aofil doesn’t join the pastor in his chuckle, but they do join him by relaxing against the back of the bench. “Wish I could say that myself.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, how have you been with your curse?”

Aofil does mind, quite a lot, but another warm gust push their head towards the pastor ever so gently. Aofil gives in to it. “It’s not been well, father. I’ve tried to keep it under control, but I’m not strong enough.”

“That’s because your soul is strong, Aofil. Not because you’re weak. It’s just misguided, and I apologize for that.”

Apologize? What for? “What do you mean?” Aofil asks perplexed.

The pastor places a finger on Aofil’s chest. “You’ve no idea how much your soul would’ve been worshiped back in the days before the Barrier.”

“That’s not cheering me up, to be honest,” Aofil replies, still as perplexed. The pastor returns his finger to himself. “I also remember you saying that there weren’t any books before the Barrier left.”

The pastor leans his unamused face towards Aofil. He raises an equally unimpressed eyebrow. “Not that I knew about.”

Aofil’s brow furrows. “What do you mean?”

“Isn’t it a bit weird that I just told you that your soul would’ve been worshiped, but you refer to it as a curse?”

“Yeah, I guess. But,” Aofil’s brow furrows deeper, “that’s because you called it a curse.”

“Because it is a curse, but not in the way you think, and not in the way I thought either.”

The wind stop, and it summons a smile from the pastor. “Didn’t mean for it to be ominous like this,” he thinks out loud. “But anyway, what I mean is that the curse you have isn’t real. Not anymore. You’re not cursed, Aofil. You just have a red soul. A broken soul, yes, but other than that, then there’s nothing special about you.”

The pastor’s calm smile is having the opposite effect on Aofil. What’s he saying? Nothing special? Then why?

“What?” is the only thing Aofil manages to produce.

“Determination exists in every soul, Aofil. Which means that determination isn’t bound to the crimson heart, it’s bound to every color. Whether it be red, green, or,” the pastor places his hand over his heart, “in my case.”

Aofil turns their head away. “Don’t.”

“Every human has one, Aofil.”

“Please. I don’t want to know.”

The pastor lets go of his chest. “As you wish then. To continue with my point, your soul isn’t cursed. Back in the days before the Barrier, a red soul was seen as something valuable. So valuable and rare that you would’ve been hunted because of it.”

Aofil glances down at their own chest. “Hunted? By monsters? That why we sealed them?”

“By humans, of course. A red soul is an incredibly strong one. More so than any other color. Whereas the others have known virtues to them, the red soul doesn’t. Because of it being sought after by greed and lust for power there aren’t any records of the virtues for it, only how much it transcended the others. Why it is, we don’t know.”

The pastor smiles towards Aofil, who’s face is twisted in confusion. “I told you that you had a curse because that’s how I interpreted the books at that time. During these years I’ve been taking in the monsters culture. Their customs, spirituality, magic, how they view souls.” His smile falters, and he turns his head towards the gravestones. “I’ve learned that what I thought before was false. That what I said was a lie conjured up to protect the bearers of the soul. I’ve twisted the knowledge, like the ones before me. To me it read as the red soul was dangerous, that it was cursed. The curse isn’t because of the dangers the human wielding it possesses, but the dangers against the human wielding it. It’s not a curse from within you, it’s a curse towards you.”

Aofil is frozen, their world is spinning.

“Forgive me,” the pastor begs the wind. “Had I known what I know now, things might’ve been different. That might be a lie, but it’s the closest I can offer as an apology. All that hatred, misguided, baseless. Your parents deserved better than what I gave them. What if I didn’t tell them about it? Would Chara still be alive? Would your family still be alive?” The pastors clamped hands begin to shake. ”Aofil...”

“Y-yes?” they stammer.

“Even after what I said, what I set in motion? I drove their child away. They came to me for guidance, but they left lost. Aofil, do you think they can forgive me? ”

Aofil sighs. “I don’t know. They might be busy enough forgiving me for what I did.”

“You might not be religious, Aofil,” the pastor stands up carefully, “but I’m still gonna ask you.”

“Yes?”

The pastor kneels before the gravestones. “Will you join me in praying for them?”

The pastor praying for Aofil’s parents? The pastor who begrudgingly agreed to house Aofil’s family in his graveyard, is now praying for them. He who proclaimed that Chara and Aofil was cursed, is now telling Aofil that the curse was spun out of jealousy?

“Aofil?” the pastor asks again.

Aofil shakes the thoughts out of their head. They meet the pastor’s eyes. Calm, inviting, pleading for forgiveness. They nod, “Sure,” and kneels next to the pastor. He offers a warm smile.

“Thank you.”

The pastor lays his hands with the palms up on his knees. “For those who’s bond has been broken, may your souls shine bright now that it’s free, and replace the warmth that vanished with you. Let it illuminate the undiscovered path that awaits you. May it remind you of the happiness you brought to everyone you graced with your presence. Join the ones you thought were gone, and smile to us as we awe at the rainbow you’ve joined. For as the sun brings color to rain, so shall you bring color to the void, so that we may find you.”

The pastor lowers his head, “Forgive me,” and lets the wind dance around him.

Aofil lowers their head with him. “And me.”

The wind dances around Aofil as well.

“Pastor?” Aofil asks after a couple of silent minutes without opening their eyes.

“Yes, my child?” he answers gently.

“You said that you didn’t know what you did now back in the day.”

“That is true, these years have been enlightening to me.” The pastor pats his chest. “In more ways than one.”

“So, what do you know now?”

The gravel underneath the pastor rumbles quietly, and Aofil opens their eyes. He reseats himself on the bench, and Aofil joins him. “Like I said, that determination exists in every soul. This past years I’ve been taking in the monster’s beliefs. How they see the soul, and their bodies. It’s fascinating. For them, it’s the same, but for us, it’s separate. We have a bond between our soul and our body.”

“Is that what you meant in the prayer? That when you die, your bond is broken?”

The pastor nods. “Yes. The prayer you shared with me, it was from before the Barrier.”

“And my soul? My curse? Is it true that it doesn’t exist?”

The pastor swivels his head towards the end of the gravel path. He waves, and then looks at Aofil. “I can only tell you my interpretation. Whether it’s true or not, that I don’t know. Besides, does it matter?”

Aofil nods without changing their expression. “Yes, it actually does.”

The pastor stands up, “No, it doesn’t,” and pauses just long enough to be able to interrupt Aofil’s retort. “Because what’s important is what you think is true. It’s your soul, it’s a part of you.”

“What?” Aofil asks with an irritated hand. “Just tell me, is my curse real or not?”

“It’s real as long as you make it real. Now if you excuse me, I have others in my flock I have to attend to. Thank you for joining me, Aofil. I’m sure it did good for your family as well.”

“No!” Aofil places their irritated hand on the pastor’s shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. “I want a straight answer. Is my curse real or not?!”

“Did you change your mind when I told you that I was wrong?”

“Why would I if you were just lying about it being wrong?”

The pastor shrugs, but the hand on his shoulder stays firm. “If I lied back then, what difference would it make if I lied now? So what if I want to try and atone for the wrongs I did? The important part is that you believe it, and take it to heart, or in your case, your soul.”

“Just...”

“Maybe you’re angry with me because I made it clear that you’ve been lying to yourself all these years?” the pastor asks before removing Aofil’s hand. It doesn’t fight back.

Aofil’s head drowns under the question. What if he’s right?

The pastor leans out from Aofil’s shoulder. “Prince Asriel,” the pastor bows to the jeans and shirt wearing monster, “you’ve grown since the last time I saw you. I don’t mean to be rude, but unfortunately I have to attend to other things at the moment.”

Asriel waves it off. “It’s fine, you do you.”

“Send my regards to the king and queen.”

Asriel nods with a smile. “Will do.”

“Aofil,” the pastor bids farewell before walking away with the wind in his back.

“It was a very long five minutes, Aofil?”

Aofil doesn’t hear the question from Asriel at first. The one in their head is too loud for them to hear anything from outside. Asriel notices Aofil’s blank stare, and he leans into Aofil’s view. “Hm?” Aofil mumbles as their brain realizes that someone is in front of them. “Oh, Asg… I mean Asriel. Yes?”

Asriel isn’t sure how to answer. “Yes, I’m here now.”

“When did I wave you over?”

“You didn’t,” Asriel’s brow lowers ever so slightly. “You feeling alright?”

“Yeah, yes,” Aofil assures. “My head is just a bit busy, that’s all. A lot has happened, I guess it’s catching up to me.”

“I can relate,” Asriel nods to himself. He forms words with his lips, but says none. “I can relate,” he repeats after gaining control over his mouth again.

“So, um,” Aofil presents the gravestones to Asriel, “these are my parents. My siblings are next to them. Not Chara, of course. My adopted ones.”

Asriel waves. “We didn’t have a chance to meet last time.”

From an outside perspective, talking to a bunch of gravestones seems kinda strange. Aofil is the last one to judge though, but there’s just something weird seeing someone else doing it.

“It’s kinda weird doing this,” Asriel admits gently. “We monsters don’t bury our dead.”

“You strew the dust on the deceased favorite things, right?”

Asriel nods. “But I heard that you do something similar.”

“Yeah, cremation.”

“I wonder how mom did it with Chara.”

“You haven’t asked her?”

“No,” Asriel raises a seething eyebrow, “because a certain someone told me not to mention Chara while my face was in the cold dirt.”

Aofil nods sheepishly. “Right.”

“So,” Asriel points respectfully towards Aofil’s siblings, “how were they?”

Aofil motions towards the bench. “Not like Chara.”

Asriel clamps his hands together and rests them on his lap. “Do you even remember Chara? I thought you had medicine that blocked your memory.”

“Yeah,” Aofil scratches their nose, “all I heard about Chara was from Chara, or what my mind thought they were. Honestly, I’ve no clue. But my siblings that are here didn’t have the same curse as Chara or me, so...”

“I see.” Asriel drums with his thumbs as he thinks. “How were your big brother then?”

“My big brother was good. I don’t really know how to describe it otherwise. He taught me to pick locks, he helped me, sometimes, with homework. You know, big brother stuff.”

Aofil sees in Asriel’s eyes that he doesn’t know, not at all. “Look,” Aofil tries again, “you’ve heard of how big brothers are, right? He was there for me.”

“Fair enough, I guess. Your sister?”

“She was, she was kinda like MK. Just full of energy all the time. How is he, by the way?”

“MK?”

Aofil nods excitingly without noticing. “Yeah.”

“His dad is working close with my dad to help with the bureaucratic, what he describes, Temmie field, of trying to make a new kingdom literally sprout out of the ground. MK’s been around our house a lot, so we’re really good friends.”

“Frisk too?”

“Yeah, with Frisk too. MK’s got a driver’s license too.”

Aofil’s brow sinks so low that they can barely see. “MK?”

Asriel nod is reserved, and Aofil detects some jealousy as Asriel crosses his arms while twisting his lips. “Yeah.”

Aofil tries, but they can’t fathom how. “But how?”

“His magic,” Asriel mumbles.

As much as Aofil would love to hear the specifics, they can tell that Asriel isn’t gonna give it to them. His body language is a bigger barrier than the Barrier.

Asriel nods towards the bigger gravestones. “Your parents?”

“Yeah.”

“Chara told me a lot about them.”

“A lot of it I’m guessing wasn’t good.”

Asriel shakes his head. “No, it wasn’t. They told me that...”

Aofil stops Asriel with a firm hand between them. “Spare me the details. I don’t want to know what Chara thought of them. Although, was there anything good they said?”

Asriel searches his mind. “Nothing that they said to me, but I could tell that there was something. The more time they spent with us, the less they thought about it though. I could tell, but I could never tell them.”

“It was probably me.” Aofil wrinkles their nose at what they just said, but it’s what makes the most sense. “We were pretty close. I think Chara felt like it was us two against the world. What with our curse being too much for our parents to handle. Had we just waited a couple more days...”

Asriel brushes his ear back. “I wonder what would’ve happened if you fell with them. Me on dad’s head, you and Chara on either side of his shoulders instead of just Chara on one.”

The image floods Aofil’s mind, and they chuckle. “That would’ve certainly been something.”

“The hopes of the Underground.”

“Perhaps they would still be alive today.”

Asriel sighs. “Perhaps.”

The two sit together on the bench, but alone in their minds. The sun manages to reach so low that it blinds them, despite their head being lowered in thought, before they realize the time.

Asriel cocks his head towards the car. “Shall we?”

Aofil nods, “Let’s go,” but before they leave they wave goodbye to their family. Asriel does to, and with a smile on his lips.

Once back in the car Asriel inserts the key into the ignition. A gust of wind shoots through a nearby patch of flowers, and into the car. It catches Asriel’s nose, and he sneezes.

Aofil needs a second to recover from the startling sound. They almost stabbed themselves with the end of the seat belt. “Bless you, Asriel. You alright?”

Asriel dries his nose with his sleeve, “Yeah, I’m fi-” and freezes when he discovers that he’s still holding the key.

The upper half of the key.

He dives down under the steering wheel, his ear slapping against the radio, and turning it on. Hie eyes widen in fear, and he looks up towards Aofil. “It broke!”

Aofil lowers the sound of the volume. “It broke!” Asriel repeats. This time Aofil hears.

He shows Aofil the lower half of the key stuck in the ignition. The lights are on in the car, but the engine isn’t. “Can you get it out? Use a claw,” they suggest.

Asriel shows his hands. “I cut them yesterday, they’re too blunt!”

Aofil can’t help to find Asriel’s panic a little bit funny, but he’s right in that it is indeed a problem. “Asriel, calm down. Let’s just call a tow truck,” they propose before getting out of the car.

“Mom is gonna kill me,” Asriel whimpers before closing the door behind him. He puts his elbows on the roof of the car and slides his hands up his cheeks. They stop under his ears. “She’s gonna kill me.”

He sure is a normal teenager.

“Asriel.”

He removes his hands.

“Asriel,” Aofil repeats now that he can hear, “call a tow truck. I’ll look up a number on my phone, and then you can make the call..”

“Can’t you call one?” Asriel proposes while making himself as small as possible.

“No,” Aofil finds a local company and slides the phone over to Asriel, “it’s important that you know how to call for help once you have your license.”

Aofil glances over to their family. Their dad had just as much fun as Aofil is having now when they were getting their own license.

“Hello?” Asriel starts. “Yes, I need a tow truck. Where?” He looks around for a sign.

“Mt. Ebott graveyard,” Aofil informs.

“Mt. Ebott graveyard,” Asriel relays. “What? Yes, the church.” He shoots a glare at Aofil.

Aofil sighs. Semantics.

Asriel’s glare is interrupted by the phone. “No truck? Then how long?” He looks at Aofil again, but now his eyes are filled with fear. “Three hours?”

Three hours? No, that’s way too long. Aofil motions for Asriel to cover the phone with his hand. “Tell them who you are. That should make you a priority.”

Asriel nods, but not with confidence. “I’m Prince Asriel.”

The laughter from the phone is so loud even Aofil can hear it. Asriel switches ear while massaging the previous one. “No, but I am.”

Aofil beckons for the phone. “Tow truck to the Monster City from Mt. Ebott graveyard, how soon?”

The laughter from the phone takes a while to die down. “Three hours, like I said,” the guy on the phone says again, before chuckling again.

“See you in three hours then.”

Aofil disconnects the call.

“Call Toriel and tell her that we’re gonna be a bit late, Asriel. I know a place where we can eat. They serve snails too.”

Asriel’s face lights up. “Really?”

Aofil’s face sinks. “Yeah, really.”


	14. Same snails, different goat

"This is..."

Asriel's ears flop from side to side as his head jerks between the wide array of flavors on display around him. His chest almost doubles in size as he greedily inhales the smells around him. With an excited and impatient smile on his lips he exhales the smells back into the thick air around him.

"...so cool!”

“Yes,” Aofil agrees with the smallest amount of air they’re able to while still having it be audible. The store is exactly the same as they remember, with the small addition of a monster prince skipping around like he was just released to graze.

In a sense, he is.

Asriel caught whiff of the store surprisingly far away. He caught Aofil with surprise too, and his eyes continued to widen the closer the both of them came to the store. Aofil’s, on the other hand, narrowed as much as Asriel’s widen the closer they came, since they could also smell the store.

The place is just as empty as it was the first time Aofil was here. Although, the ridiculously expanded selection points to the emptiness being the exception rather than the rule. Snails must’ve been a large part of monster cooking. Maybe still is. It’s either that, or Toriel buys bulk from here. Judging by Asriel borderline squealing though, it doesn’t seem to be the case.

The monster clerk looks questioning at Aofil standing in the doorway as she emerges from the backroom. Aofil returns a smile and a wave, and she’s forced to mirror it. Aofil’s not moving though. Despite the friendly invitation, they’d rather not step foot in the store more than they have to.

Something catches Asriel’s nose. “Golden Flower?”

A slick of ill washes over Aofil. Golden Flower snails? Just the thought almost made them heave, so it’s probably for the best that they don’t try to pick out the smell with their nose. Hopefully Asriel picks something else. Maybe the clerk will convince him?

The clerk’s customer summoned smile tells a different story, and she leans out over the counter. “Yes, we just recently...” Her jaws almost drop to the floor as she sees the young boss monster hunched over in anticipation, taking in the smells, and adoring every second of it. “Prince Asriel?”

He turns with a smile so wide it almost splits his cheek. “Is it really Golden Flower seasoned?”

The clerk needs a second or two to collect herself. “Y-yes!” She coughs away her cracking voice. “Yes, it is, your majesty.”

“You never told me you were a prince,” quips Aofil just to prod the clerk's reaction.

The monster clerk snaps her head towards Aofil in disbelief. “You don’t know!?”

Aofil can’t hold their face, and a crack of a smile slips through. “Just kidding, I know who he is.”

The clerk nods, and returns her eyes to Asriel for a moment, before snapping her head back at Aofil. “You know him? He knows you?”

Asriel breaks eye contact with the clerk. “You found anything?” they ask Asriel to deflect the clerk’s question.

He doesn’t answer as he’s too busy hopping from flavor to flavor. “Glam snails!”

Aofil quells another wave of sick.

“Temmie flakes!”

No…

“Ketchup.”

Oh no…

“Mt. Ebott special?”

“Yes,” the monster clerk bows her head, “it’s a mix of monster cuisine, my prince.”

Aofil notices a subtle change in Asriel’s expression. He’s still beaming, but there’s a faint shadow among the glee on his face. Something that the clerk said?

“I think I’ll try this one,” he says with a smile. “The special.”

The clerk lifts a tentacle and points towards the stack of cups next to Asriel. “Containers behind you.”

Asriel grabs one eagerly. “Thank you!”

“Grab one for Toriel as well,” Aofil proposes. “She likes garlic.”

“And Golden Flower for dad!”

Aofil can’t help but be dragged along with Asriel’s excitement. It drowns the disgust. “Sure, why not?”

“And you?” Asriel looks around him. “Which do you want?”

The question forces a worried smile onto Aofil’s lips. “No, no thank you. No snails for me. I’ll get something else.” They stop him from putting back the last container though. “Get some for Frisk instead.”

Hopefully Frisk can forgive Aofil.

Asriel takes off like he’s racing the clock. Aofil chuckles, but as the snail air enters their mouth, they stop. They lean their head away from the door and breathe in some fresh… fresher air, and then they head up to the counter as Asriel stacks the container on the scale. Aofil takes out their wallet. “How much?”

“What are you doing?” Asriel wonders with a perplexed look. “This is for my family, I’m paying.”

“You are?”

Asriel nods, sternly. “Yeah, I am.”

“Alright.” Aofil puts away their wallet. “If you wish.”

“Here,” Asriel hands a note bigger than what the clerk asked for, “keep the change,” he says with a grumble before the clerk can inform him. He packs the snails into two plastic bags, and heads out with stormy steps.

The clerk looks questionably at Aofil, but they’ve no idea. They shrug their shoulders and catch up to Asriel. “Hey, what’s up?”

Asriel wraps the plastic bags around his hands so that he can squeeze them. “Nothing.”

Alright then. Obviously something is, but Aofil decides not to pry.

“Grab a table, Asriel. I’m gonna get something to eat myself. Want something to drink?”

“Soda.”

“Cola good?”

“Yeah.”

“Be back in a bit.”

Asriel heads off to find a table. Aofil turns around so that Asriel can’t see them blowing their lips. What just happened? What did the clerk say? What did Aofil do to piss Asriel off? They just offered to pay. Is he that angry with Aofil that he won’t even accept their money? How deep is his wound from Aofil? Can’t be so deep that he won’t accept Aofil being generous?

“Yes?”

Aofil is dragged out of their thoughts. “Yes?”

The guy in the window tries again. “Yes?”

Aofil now sees that they’re expected to order, since they’re right in front of a discrete, but delicious smelling, window in the wall. Their nose must’ve led them there. “Yes, can I have a,” Aofil scans the menu quickly, “number three? Two cans of cola as well.”

The guy writes the order up and Aofil pays. They’re handed their receipt and are informed that it’s gonna take a minute or two.

Fair enough, back to thinking.

The guy in the window leans out of it. “Nevermind, found some cans in the back of the fridge. Here you go.”

Aofil takes their order, stunned. That went a little too quick. Aofil checks the contains of the bag they were given.

“Need some utensils? Ketchup?”

Aofil shakes their head. “No. Oh wait, yes. A fork and a packet of ketchup, please. It’s just...”

The guy peeks inside the bag as he drops off the fork and ketchup. “You said number three, right?”

Aofil nods. “Yeah, but...”

A fire monster leans into view. “It was a number three?”

“Yeah,” the guy relays, “you made a number three, right?”

The fire monster nods.

“Oh,” Aofil excuses themselves. “Nevermind then, it was nothing.”

Fire magic can apparently cook in an instant. Fair enough.

After a brief search Aofil joins a hunched over Asriel at a secluded table. “Got your soda, Asri-”

Asriel hushes them. “Not my name.”

Aofil opens their can. “Why not?”

Asriel’s claw stops just over the can. “I don’t want people to recognize me.” He taps the top of the can with his claw, and takes a sip.

Aofil looks over their shoulder, they’re seated so that they obscure Asriel from the rest of the plaza. Not many people tonight. Just a couple of monsters and people here and there, eating together. Aofil spots a human girl with a monster next to her. She looks to be Frisk’s age. The monster is dark green with four arms. All of them are flexing, much to the annoyance of the girl. It’s playful annoyance though.

A loud crunch turns Aofil’s head back to Asriel, who’s sampling the first of his snails. “Taste good?”

Asriel nods. “Really good.”

“Nice.”

Asriel points to Aofil’s food with his fork. “Yours?”

Aofil takes a bite. “It’s good too.”

After finally deciding which snail to eat next, Asriel picks it up on his fork, “Nice,” and slips it into his mouth. Not unlike how Toriel did.

The memory washes over Aofil, how stupid they acted. They’ve never seen her eyes shoot cold as much as they did when they refused to say what flavor it is. Aofil reheats themselves with another bite of their food. It’s cooked nicely, the fire monster knows his stuff. Oh wait, that means it’s magic! But wait again, their arm seems to be fine with them eating it. Normally it should be itching by now. So why not?

Is it all just in their head? Like the pastor said?

No, that doesn’t make sense. Aofil didn’t know about the curse when they and Chara first came in contact with the Barrier. They attacked their parents, something must’ve happened.

Did they hit their head? The first of too many? No, can’t be it. But then, how?

“Aofil, your fork?”

They realize that they almost snapped their plastic fork in half. “Oh, yeah.”

Asriel wants to ask why, but he doesn’t. He looks back down into his container and sticks another snail with his own fork. “Sorry for grumbling at you in the shop, by the way.”

“No worries. Don’t think about it.”

“It’s just because...” Asriel’s fork sinks into his container as he drops it. “Sorry, don’t wanna talk about it.”

“You sure?”

“No?” Asriel crosses his arms. “I don’t know.”

“You can talk to me about Chara,” Aofil reminds while putting their own fork down. “Is this bigger?”

“I guess not?” Asriel sighs in defeat. “I want to do something. I want to feel like I am the prince because of what I do, not just because I’m alive. I don’t like being called it. It was all fun and games with Chara since we were just kids, but now that I’m older.” Asriel looks towards the snail shop with a pair of distant eyes. “I have these people smiling at me because they’re obliged to, not because they want to. It feels, wrong. What if they all hate me, but smile only because I’m the prince?”

“Come on now. You said yourself that you had friends, right? They’re not your friends because you’re the prince, they like you because you’re you.”

Aofil’s words doesn’t reach Asriel. Instead, his eyes grow more distant. “Like when me and dad went to visit the fallen children’s parents. He didn’t tell mom. Probably because she would’ve gotten through his stubborn skull what a stupid idea it was to bring me along.”

“Don’t worry, son,” Asriel reassures while mimicking Asgore’s voice. He comes surprisingly near. “It will just be for a minute.”

“They just looked at me,” Asriel continues in almost a whisper, now back with his own voice. “They smiled, but I could tell that they weren’t genuine. When they thought that me and dad were out of hearing distance, they argued about me. Was I it? Was I that they lost a child for? Dad was quick to cover my ears, but I had already heard what they said. He tried to play it off, saying that he saw a couple of mosquitoes landing on my ears. I told him that I didn’t hear anything. He tried to hide it, but he was so relieved.” Asriel’s head sink into his shoulders, and his shoulders sink into the backrest of his chair. The cheap plastic chair squeaks, but he offsets some weight to his legs. He’s familiar with this. “Dad didn’t have to explain to his son why a pair of ex parents didn’t appreciate that their child was used to bring back a parasite prince that hasn’t done anything!”

A nearby table turns their head, but Aofil is quick to meet their eyes so that they return to their own business. “Asri-” Aofil catches their tongue. “Dude.”

Asriel’s expression can only be described as disgusted hearing Aofil calling him ‘dude’.

“Just listen.”

Asriel makes an attempt.

“You have done things,” Aofil starts, “you must have.“

“I know that I’ve done things,” Asriel retorts with a mumble, “but nothing that’s enough. You heard what the trucker on the phone did, he just laughed when I said who I was.”

“He’ll have a different tone once he sees you. Anyone can claim to be the prince over the phone. But anyways, you said you made a skateboard film. That’s something. I’m sure Fuku and her friend appreciated that you spent the time you did making it.”

Asriel rolls his eyes. “Yes, very prince like.”

“Maybe not to you.”

“How is a three minute long, poorly edited, badly audio mixed, skateboard video gonna make up for me causing my people to wish, and almost completing, seven killings?”

“It’s a start?”

“New chapter,” Asriel sighs out tiredly. “While I’m stuck in a previous one.”

“But you’re not,” Aofil reminds. “You’re here, you’re alive, you’re you. Friends, family, future. The old chapter is all in your head, you can’t move on until you recognize that. You have to let others help you, because...”

Wait a second…

“Because, if you keep it to yourself, keep it only to the one that can’t move on...”

Aofil looks down at their arm.

“You try to run away from your problems, only to realize that you’re running away from the ones that can, and want, to help you.”

Who is Aofil actually reminding? Asriel, or themselves?

Asriel returns to his food in silence. His face is deep in thought as he crunches snail after snail. Aofil returns to their own as well. If their arm is quiet this far, then it shouldn’t be a problem continuing. Aofil even catches themselves enjoying their food, but after also catching a glimpse of Asriel washing down bits of snails with his soda, they suddenly start losing their appetite. Not enough to discourage them finishing their meal, but imagining snails mixed with soda isn’t exactly what Aofil would consider enjoying willingly.

After loudly slurping the snail broth, and further plunging Aofil’s taste buds into dread, Asriel shakes the last drops of soda into his mouth. He quells a burp, and releases it away from Aofil. Aofil follows the imaginary cloud of pungent gas with their eyes for a while before feeling a wind from behind them. Confident that the cloud is gone with the wind, they also finish the last of their own food and drink.

Seeing Aofil lean back into their chair, Aofil rummages through his shirt pocket. He pulls out a small packet. “Gum?” he offers.

“Oh,” Aofil reaches over the table and takes one, “thanks.”

Asriel flicks one into his own mouth. “No problem.”

“You think Toriel is going to be upset that we missed her dinner?”

Asriel shrugs. “Upset, yeah. Angry, no. She didn’t even sound angry when I told her about the car.”

“A mom that’s never angry with you?” Aofil chuckles. “Sounds fantastic.”

“Because she thinks that if she becomes angry with me, then I’ll die again.”

“That’s a bit blunt to say.”

“Well,” Asriel shrugs his shoulders again, “that’s how she is. She won’t admit it if you ask, though.”

“Maybe because it isn’t true?” Aofil retorts with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Asriel scoffs so hard his gum flies out of his mouth. He flicks it off the table and pops another one into his mouth, “whatever you say.”

Aofil snaps their fingers. “Exactly.”

Asriel rolls his eyes.

The chair squeaks as Aofil leans back into it with their arms crossed over their chest. What to do next? Are they just gonna sit here for what, one and a half hour more? Aofil scratches their chin while thinking. As they return their fur covered arm underneath their other, they feel it vibrate. It’s almost pulsing. Dammit, why now?

Aofil glances over to Asriel, but he’s busy with his phone. They lift their arm out from the other. The vibrating stops. It’s not in their arm.

It’s their own phone.

Aofil’s sigh of relief forces Asriel from his own phone. He stares at Aofil holding theirs in their hand. “You gonna answer?” he asks after two tones. “Could be the trucker.”

Aofil answers just before the call disconnects. “Aofil.”

“A truck opened up earlier, so we’re sending one to the church now,” informs another worker from the towing company. “It’ll be there in roughly half an hour.”

“Sure, sounds good!” Aofil ends the call and motions for Asriel to stand up, “Truck is on its way,” Aofil informs him, “so we should probably make sure that we’re at the car when it arrives.”

“I could call Frisk,” Asriel proposes while waving his phone.

“Okay?”

“So that they can get Sans on the phone. Ask him if he can shortcut us two back home.”

“You think he would do that? Can he even do that?”

Asriel shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s better than calling for a taxi.”

“We’ll just hitch a ride with the truck, no problem.”

“In the,” Asriel looks at Aofil with a bewildered face wrinkled in confusion, “car?”

“No,” Aofil tries to hide their reaction to Asriel’s assumption, “in the cab of the truck. We should fit no problem.”

“You think they’ll let us?”

“I know that you don’t like to leverage your position, but I’m positive that the driver will recognize who you are. Doesn’t matter if they’re a human or a monster. It’s either that, or you waiting with your hood over your head while I explain why we lied to them that you were the prince.”

Asriel doesn’t see any problem with that plan, but Aofil lifts a finger. “Which might piss them off enough to not serve us,” they add.

“Right...”

“I’ll do the talking, Asriel. You just try and look, um, royal.”

With a flick of his shirt Asriel blows his lips. “It’s hard enough with the ceremonial robes. I’m trying to keep my normal life without any royal stuff, you know.”

“It’s either that or hoping that the driver is in a good mood at this hour. Then we have to call a cab, so that’s gonna be expensive. Toriel will worry more if she only sees the car coming up without us in it.”

“Okay!” Asriel bursts out tiredly. “Let’s just do this.”

A silent walk later the two reach the church again. The headlights on the car has dimmed a bit, so the battery must be draining. Aofil promises to Asriel that it isn’t a problem. They just need to recharge it once it gets home. Before Asriel can dry the sweat off of his forehead, the tow truck emerges from around the street corner. Aofil again promises that it’s fine, but the trucker have to actually see Asriel for the plan to work.

The trucker parks behind the car and walks around with a smug twist to his steps. “I heard that the prince had car troubles,” he chuckles out while pretending to scan his surroundings.

Aofil throws their thumb towards Asriel. “Here he is.”

Asriel waves just long enough to catch the trucker’s attention, but not a second longer.

The monster trucker fumbles with his cap before finally gripping it and taking it off. He bows his head. “O-oh, so it was you.”

“You don’t mind us hitching a ride to the Monster City?” Aofil asks, feeling the same smugness that the trucker just had.

“That’s where you’re going?” The trucker nods his head quickly. “Y-yes, of course. Let me just hook the car up.”

With another bow the trucker begins his work. Aofil beckons for Asriel, and holds the truck door open for him as they seat themselves in the middle seat. Asriel closes the door after him.

Aofil winks cheekily. “Told you it would work."

Asriel’s brow narrows, but his mouth stays closed. He takes out a pair of earbuds from his pant pocket. After some unraveling he inserts them into his ears, and leans away from Aofil.

A couple of loud minutes pass as the car is hoisted up on the truck. The trucker seats himself in the driver’s seat. “So, where are we going?”

Good question. Aofil has no clue. Carefully they elbows Asriel in his side to get his attention. “Where are we going?”

Asriel relays the address without any hint of interest or emotion in his voice. He then replaces his earbud and again leans away from Aofil and the trucker.

Aofil turns back to the trucker, who’s face is drained of color. “Am I gonna be punished for laughing at the prince?”

Aofil looks back at Asriel. Try as he might, he’s still the prince. Right now he’s all teenager though. “Nah, I think you’re good.”


	15. Road back away from home

"Can I ask you a question?"

The trucker is a bit taken back as he’s ripped from his driving zen. Almost like Aofil startled him. “Yeah, sure.”

“How has this city been after you monsters surfaced?”

The trucker flicks on the truck’s full beams while turning out onto the highway towards Monster City. The beams turn the dark highway outside into day. “You lived here before?”

“Yeah, in the outskirts, but I moved away.”

The trucker glances over to Aofil with three narrowed eyes. “Because we monsters surfaced?”

“It’s not because of why you’re thinking. I’m not racist,” Aofil defends. “I just had to get some distance away. The reason why is, complicated.”

“Heard something similar once I started looking for a job up here,” the trucker replies with his eyes still narrowed. “It wasn’t because I was a monster or anything, but the position had already been filled. They were happy that I applied, and then they hung up on me as fast as possible. It wasn’t until a couple of months after the trial that things finally calmed down enough for someone to give me an interview.”

Aofil cocks their head towards Asriel. “I know the prince and his family, so take that however you like it.”

“True, I guess,” the trucker agrees. “So why did you move away if you know the Dreemurrs? I know I wouldn’t if I knew the Royal Family.”

“Yeah, but I’m not you.”

Not the answer the trucker wanted, but it’s the one he got. “Fair enough then.”

The trucker shuts off the full beams for a moment as he spots another car approaching. It passes, and then the road is again illuminated like it was high noon as the trucker activates the full beams again.

“Were you part of the riots?” Aofil asks after some debating whether they should or not.

“Riot, there was only one,” the trucker corrects while adjusting his grip on the steering wheel. “It wasn’t.” He sighs deeply. “It wasn’t the smartest thing I’ve done. Can’t believe that I actually did it. Looking back at it. Damn, what a mess. The Surface was supposed to be our future. It is now, but man was there a bigger mountain than Mt. Ebott in the way before we could...”

The trucker loses his thread of thought as the memories rushes through his mind. Aofil puts up a calm hand. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.”

“No, it’s fine.” The trucker massages his lobe with his hand. “The more I do, the more I feel that I can put it behind me. I just need a minute.”

Aofil nods. “Of course.”

The trucker pauses to collect his thoughts. As he strokes his chin, Aofil ears pick up something else, but from the other side. They turn to see Asriel tapping the side of his phone, causing the guitar riff to grow in strength from his ears. If Aofil can hear it it’s way too loud, more so probably in Asriel’s ears.

Or are they being racist despite saying that they’re not?

Aofil spots Asriel’s wide opened eyes in the reflection from the passenger window. The reflection is faint, but it’s plenty enough for Aofil to see the fear in Asriel’s eyes. He must also be remembering.

“I was so,” the trucker manages just those words before having to calm himself further, “angry. First against the monster judges. Then against,” he trucker shoots a look over to Asriel on the other side. Asriel curls up further. He must’ve either heard it or felt it. “And then,” the trucker’s eyes move to Aofil. He tears them off after a second to return them to the road, “against you humans. With all that was said, the verdict, how Asgore and the monster judges acted. I-I thought we would be sealed back up again. I panicked, we all panicked.”

The trucker scoffs. “The worst part is that, from what I heard, you humans felt the same about the trial. It just escalated so quickly. No one had an outside point of view, everyone was involved.” The trucker tilts his head to Aofil. “Right?”

“Yeah,” Aofil lies.

“And then, outside the courthouse...In that moment we had all forgotten how weak we were compared to you humans. If it had been just another minute or so, we probably would’ve realized. But then, someone threw the-”

“Shut up!” Asriel roars and throws his hands down on the seat. The trucker jolts away from him, and the truck swirls for a second before he regains control over it. The trucker stares at Asriel with regret surging through him, but to his surprise, Asriel lowers his own head, “Sorry...” and returns to staring out the passenger window, but not before tapping the side of his phone again.

Aofil lets some time pass before continuing. “What happened afterwards?”

The trucker looks over to Asriel, but Aofil beckons his view towards them instead. With a sigh he gives in. “Then, all hell broke loose. I don’t know how the war was before the Barrier, but we all caught a glimpse of what it could’ve been. You humans were cautious at the beginning. Probably because you didn’t know about your souls compared to ours. Someone in the monster crowd shouted that we should use our magic.”

“Did you?”

“Yes, and I hit one. It didn’t hurt them though. I was just as scared as the human was after being hit. He patted himself to try and figure out where he was hit, but he didn’t find anything. No wound, no nothing. And then,” the trucker snaps his fingers, “just like that, it turned. We scattered, those who could flew away, and the rest of us were chased.”

“Damn, for how long?”

“Have you lived under a rock or something? Asgore happened, remember? His shout that almost broke every window in the city, and his speech afterwards. Is this how the monsters would start their new chapter? The same way the old one ended? With blood and dust? The human lawyer as well. He was the father of one of the kids murdered, and if he could accept the justice, then why couldn’t the humans? The moment of stunned silence was enough for the police and Royal Guard to charge in and take control over the situation. I managed to not get caught, but it was a close one. Undyne caught me with her eye, but she was too busy with another monster.”

Aofil nods. “I see.”

“Is this the first time you’ve heard about it?” the trucker wonders very suspiciously. “There was at least a month of constant news coverage afterwards. Eventually it died down. Hell, lucky that it did die down. Otherwise I don’t know what I would’ve done.”

Good thing Aofil wasn’t part of the trial. If Asgore had their curse as an ace this time again then the riot might’ve become genocide. And then Frisk would’ve been forced to reset, and then…

No! Aofil shakes the thought out of their head. There’s no need. It’s fine! It's in the past. Don’t think about it. For their own sake, just don’t give it a second more.

“So,” the trucker starts again after a heavy sulk of his shoulders, “yeah, it was pretty bad. Luckily no one was killed.” The trucker scoffs when he realizes. “Probably wouldn’t have been a human though if anyone was to die. It’s a bit scary knowing that anyone of you could wipe us all out should you wish. No human I’ve met I feel would ever do it, but still.”

“A human could wipe out the human race as well,” Aofil adds with a tilt of their head.

“Not as easily though.”

“You think anyone would?”

“I didn’t mean it as I don’t trust you, or that I’m channeling up magic every time I see a human.”

“Not that it would be effective, like you said,” Aofil reminds.

“That too. It’s just,” the trucker searches for the right word, “that I’m aware of it, you know? Would you be safe around a human with, let’s say, a gun?”

Aofil scratches their head. “That extreme?”

The trucker debates with himself whether or not it was. “No? I don’t know. I can’t really describe it. To be honest, I feel a bit uncomfortable talking about it.”

“Because I’m a-”

“Yes,” the trucker interrupts, “because a monster would also know why. I’m sorry...”

“It’s fine, I promise. I didn’t move away because of you monsters, and you don’t have to explain why.”

The trucker nods. “Sounds good.”

“So,” Aofil decides to change the subject before the air in the cab freezes them all to death, “the city?”

“Right, the city. From what I’ve seen, and after everything had cooled down after the trial, it’s mostly been better and better. More monsters walking around, and more humans with them. There’s still some tensions around, but not nearly as much as it was after the riot. Like cooked instead of dry spaghetti.”

Aofil’s half tempted to look over their shoulder to make sure that Papyrus isn’t sitting in Toriel’s car, but they decide against it.

“I can only really talk from a monster’s perspective. So, if we take me for an example.” The trucker puts a hand on his chest. No soul emerges though, which is good. “I surfaced a couple of months or so after the Barrier broke. All my life I’d longed to see the sun, and when I finally saw it.”

Aofil lets a smile form. “Beautiful?”

“No, I couldn’t see for an hour or so. I worked as a surveyor in the Crystal Caves. Not much light there, but your eyes adapted. Had a bit of help with magic, as well. I could spot the smallest crystal in the darkest and smallest cranny.”

“And you forgot to remove it before reaching the Surface?”

The trucker smirks at Aofil. “You’re allowed to laugh, I do it too when I think back to it. Anyways, I had help with finding somewhere to live. Asgore had set up some contacts with the real estate agency. Probably used some of his golden coins and tongue, and I found myself in an apartment with a room dedicated to a porcelain seat I had no idea what to use it for.”

Aofil chuckles through their nose. “A toilet.”

“Now I know what it is, but back then.”

“If it’s not too personal to ask?”

“What I thought it was? Man, what was it again?” The trucker leans his jaw on his knuckles. “Oh yeah, a washer of sorts. Imagine my reaction when I found out that there was an actual washer when I turned my head.”

Aofil can barely hold their face together.

“Yeah, exactly like that. Only with confusion instead of laughter.”

“I’m not...” Aofil says very carefully as to not have their face explode into a guffaw.

“Like I said, it’s fine. I think it’s hilarious too. So, after some time to get comfortable with my new apartment, I was told to look for a job. So,” the trucker’s face sinks, “I did. Tried might be a better word though.”

Aofil forces their face to calm down. It was okay before, but laughing now would be the worst thing to do. The trucker again needs some time to collect himself before he takes a breath.

“I can’t count how many times I heard the same excuse, but worded differently. Every day for what felt like a year. Hooray, I had surfaced, but I was happier in the Underground. No friends of mine wanted to surface, at least not as early as I did. No family either. There was just handful of us during the first wave. Made a bit of a stir in the community. From what I could gather, the humans had just barely come to terms with the Dreemurrs, Undyne and Alphys, and the skeleton brothers, and now another group of monsters emerge.”

The trucker pauses to read the distance left to Monster City from a passing sign. They’re soon there. “So I felt like all eyes were on me every time I stepped outside. When I went for groceries humans would lean in over their carts. When I met another monster it was just a brief relief, for in the end it all came down to the same conversation.”

The trucker takes one hand off the wheel. “Have you found a job?”

He puts it back and lifts off the other. “No, have you?”

And throws both in the air. “No.”

“Sounds like it was a tough time for you,” Aofil comments. “Feeling that everything and everyone are against you. Having no family or friends around to support you.” They nod faintly. “I know that feeling.”

“And it just kept building and building. Every little thing that I could blame on the humans, I did. No job, racist humans. No family, hostile humans. Stubbed my toe, human furniture. It just kept adding up until the riot where it all,” the trucker flings his arms out, almost knocking over Aofil, “went to complete shit.”

“Sunshine on your body, but no sunshine in your mind.”

The trucker returns his arms to the wheel. “That’s a good way of putting it.”

“But then?”

“Then, the air around us monsters and you humans changed. Like a switch was thrown somewhere, but we had to almost go for each others neck to flick it.”

“We’ve lived together for longer than we’ve been separated,” Aofil shrugs, “perhaps we needed something to show us that we aren’t so different.”

The trucker thinks for a bit before looking back at Aofil with a conflicted expression covering his face. “And violence is what we both have in common?”

“Every major event has been because of violence. The war, and then, at least on our side, violence throughout the ages. Some of our biggest scientific discoveries were because of war.”

The trucker glances over to Asriel, and then back to Aofil. “The Barrier though. It was because Frisk befriended instead of killing that we could be free. I didn’t meet them, but my friend Aaron told me that the child knew exactly what to do to make friends.”

“I guess that’s were it changed,” Aofil agrees, even though they know that the truth is far from that. ”Only took six human kids dying to make it a reality though.”

“Sev-” The trucker catches his tongue. “Yes, six. Frisk is still alive.”

Judging by how hard Asriel is struggling to calm himself down after the trucker unknowingly reminding him of the seventh, Aofil decides to not fuel the Chara fire further. There’s an additionally million reasons why it’s a horrible idea too, yet this one seems to be the most prominent at the moment. Aofil tries their damnedest not to let on that they notice neither Asriel’s angry huff, or the trucker’s worrisome sigh. “But I guess the trial was our outlet for them, and you all the years Underground. We cleaned the slate.”

“I don’t know about the Underground though.”

“And I don’t know about the six kids though, but let’s not delve further into it. The riot was more than enough tension to last a lifetime.”

The trucker agrees that it’s a good idea with a stoic nod. “Eventually I did find a job.” He pats the top of the dashboard. “This job. There’s still humans that are taken back that a monster comes to help their car, but it’s more of a pleasant surprise nowadays. Like when you walk into an MTT store to find humans working there. It’s still not perfectly normal in my head, but it’s getting there.”

“Speaking of not completely perfectly normal,” Aofil intersects. “Are fire monsters usually cooks? I know of Grillby in Snowdin. Or were in Snowdin? I don’t really know if he has surfaced.”

“Neither do I, sorry.”

“It’s fine. But anyways, I visited one of those windows in the walls at the downtown food court. You know the one?”

The trucker searches his mind for a bit. “The one with that snail shop close to it?”

“Yes.”

“Oh yeah, I think I know which window you’re talking about. It takes longer for them to get your drink than it takes to cook the meal.”

Aofil snaps their fingers with overflowing excitment. “Exactly! I was handed my food before I managed to put away my wallet.”

The trucker’s face lights up bright red. “Not something you humans are used too?”

Aofil is washed over by green, but it fades as the truck drives through the intersection. “Not really. The quickest food I’ve had takes at least a couple of minutes, and that’s not really something you should eat regularly.”

“Down in the Underground the most expensive food you can find is prepared by fire monsters. Each one gives it their special flavor depending on their mood and magic usage. Or at least, that’s what the sign says outside the restaurant in MTT Hotel,” the trucker admits with a hawk.

Aofil scoffs through their lips. “Sounds like Mettaton alright.”

The trucker cocks his head at the remark, but he returns it to himself after a second or so. He bends down over the wheel to read the street signs, and mutters to himself as he tries to figure out where he is, and where he’s supposed to be going. After a tired sigh he looks over to Asriel, but decides against asking. Aofil would love to help, but they know less than the trucker.

After some wrong turns and silent cursing the trucker finally finds it. “Ah, here it is,” he informs and turns onto…

“Royal Street,” Aofil reads out loud.

Why are they surprised?

The castle is... No, wait, that’s not a castle. Not even a mansion. Granted, it’s a big house, but not a mansion. Seems rather unroyal for the royals. As the truck approaches Aofil spots some large silhouettes moving closer to the door through the lit windows. The truck pulls up to the driveway, and the front door opens. The trucker exits the cab and begins lowering Toriel’s car back down to the ground.

Aofil nudges Asriel with their elbow. “You’re home.”

He wakes up with a jolt. When he sees Aofil his face twists, but it calms down after a handful of seconds. He exhales, and drags his hands over his face. Aofil follows him out of the cab.

“Why didn’t you stop?”

Aofil couldn’t really hear as they were busy closing the door. “Sorry?”

Asriel removes the earbuds from his ears. “Why did you continue talking even though I asked you to stop?”

Aofil searches their mind for a brief moment. “Was it really asking?” they themselves ask with a raised and confused eyebrow.

Asriel bundles his earbuds into his shirt pocket, “Nevermind,” and heads up the gravel path.

Asgore meets him halfway and ruffles his head. Asriel gives a nod to Asgore’s hello, but nothing more. Not even Toriel gets a proper greeting, just a nod and a shrug after she asks something Aofil can’t make out from where they’re standing.

“My king!” the trucker almost snaps his spine in two as he bows down. Asgore stops dead in his track, perplexed. He looks at Aofil and shrugs with a hand towards the trucker before beckoning him to stand up normally.

“Golly me, it’s I that should bow down. Thank you for sacrificing your time. Please accept my deepest apologies for inconveniencing you at this late an hour.” Asgore reaches into his back pocket and flips out his wallet. “So, how much do I owe you?”

The trucker again fumbles with his cap before he manages to take it off. Asgore motions for him to put it back on. The trucker obliges, and Asgore summons a smile so warm that the trucker starts sweating. “I seem to have misplaced my cash,” Asgore explains as he shakes his empty wallet. “Could you send an invoice, and add a ten percent inconvenience fee to compensate for this late hour?”

“I-I,” the trucker stutters out.

“Fifteen percent it is then,” Asgore shoves his wallet back into his pocket. “Thank you.”

The sounds from the trucker’s mouth can almost be described as words. “Y-yes, of course. B-but where to send it?”

Asgore pats himself for a pen and paper, but doesn’t find any. He turns around towards Toriel.

“Excuse me,” the trucker intercepts with a raised finger. Once he gets back Asgore’s attention he fishes out a notebook and a pen from his pocket. Asgore thanks him warmly, and writes down some credentials. He returns it with an even warmer thank.

The trucker bows again, and hops back into his truck. Aofil sees him engaging the fans before starting up and driving away.

Asgore waves the trucker off until he can’t see him anymore, and then turns to Aofil. “It’s been a while.”

Aofil quells a yawn. “It has, Asgore.”

“I have a bottle of whiskey I haven’t really decided if it was worth the money. It’s mixed with Golden Flower. I think I need a human tongue to help me decide though since I’m a bit biased.” Asgore motions for the house. “Care to join me?”

“I don’t know. I should probably find somewhere to sleep.”

“There’s a guest room available,” Toriel informs softly with steps even more so. Aofil can barely hear the gravel underneath her. “But only if you want.”

“What about the car?”

“It’s far too late in the day to worry about it. Besides, I’ve already called Alphys,” Toriel assures with eyes ever so soft and patient. “So pay no mind to it, it wasn’t your fault. Please, let us give you this.”

Aofil can’t really escape now, can they? Are they really grabbing the bull by the horns if the bull came up to them? Toriel is right on one thing though, it is far too late to worry. Also, Alphys? Aofil looks down at their arm. Is it worth a shot? Perhaps.

What happens afterwards though? What’s Aofil’s plan for the future? Can Asgore and Toriel help them? Can any? No idea. But, what about their curse? Maybe? In any way, Aofil has to make the first move though, they have to let someone else help them help themselves.

Aofil looks up at Asgore and Toriel. “As long as I’m not being intrusive.”

Asgore puts a quiet hand on Aofil’s shoulder, and looks down at them with a stern, but comforting pair of eyes. “You know that you’ll never be, Aofil.”

Toriel’s eyes are the same, and they say the same thing. Aofil returns the smile.

“Then, can I have mine on the rocks?”


	16. A night whisked away

"Oh god..."

Aofil struggles up a hand over their face to shield them from the sun sneaking a very intense peek through the window beside them. It slashes at a very sharp angle, and with a very sharp intensity. The shadow created by Aofil’s hand helps to reduce the beating in their head, but they still hear and feel every single heartbeat of their own.

That was some damn strong whiskey.

Where are they? Oh yeah, right. At the Dreemurrs. Seems pretty big for a guest room, but that might be because they get a lot of monster visitors. Aofil’s not complaining though, the bed they’re in is bigger than theirs back home…

Luckily a flash of sharp pain shoots through their head before they can elaborate on the thought. Aofil groans again, and with a fair amount of difficulty, rolls away from the happy and joyful sun that Aofil doesn’t share with in the slightest.

What’s the time? Nine o’ clock says Mettaton’s arms on the MTT branded clock on the wall opposite the bed. So it’s not too late in the morning. Less than eight hours of sleep though. Asgore sure likes to talk. Good thing he suggested they continue in the garden. The night air did probably help a fair bit. He probably also did it so that Toriel and or the kids wouldn’t hear him and Aofil talking.

What did they talk about? Aofil struggles to think through the thumping echoing in their skull. Something about… the weather? The stars? Gardening?

Aofil pushes their palm against their forehead. The whiskey itself perhaps? How did he describe it again?

Smooth like Toriel’s...and then something, but with a hard and smokey flavor, like Toriel’s gaze if she heard what he said the first time.

Man, he must’ve went hard on it.

Aofil removes their palm, but instantly presses it back to quell the seemingly never ending thumping. They must’ve gone hard on it as well. Despite the immense pain surging through them, Aofil eyes shoot wide open. What if?

They sit up and lift up their other arm. They’re still wearing their shirt.

“Oh thank god...” Aofil sighs with relief as they fall back down into the bed. Hopefully they managed to keep their mouth shut about it as well. Their tongue can handle alcohol better than Tylior, and have done so plenty of times before, so it shouldn’t be a worry.

Aofil also woke up in a bed, and not in a laboratory. There’s no one guarding them as well, so it’s probably safe. To be fair, Aofil needs to do something extremely horrible to be shunned by Toriel or Asgore, so it’s not really a guarantee even if Aofil still woke up in their house.

Only one way to find out if it really happened. Aofil grunts through their teeth as they sit up and swing their legs over the bed. On a stool next to them is a towel and some clothes. Jeans, and a short armed shirt.

Toriel will believe that Aofil didn’t see them, so that’s fine.

“I knew I should’ve fixed the stairs...” Asgore grumbles with a sigh from what seems to be the kitchen as Aofil makes their way down the stairs. The creaking from underneath Aofil isn’t doing them any favors either.

The sun again smiles through the kitchen window. It reflects on what seems to be everything in the room, and Aofil again lifts their hand for some shadow. With his legs crossed Asgore is reading the newspaper. It’s a large one, much bigger than any human ones. Aofil doesn’t catch the headline of the paper Asgore’s reading before he lowers it. “Golly, what a morning.”

A second later Aofil needs to take support on a nearby chair. Suppressing a laugh while also trying not to move or do anything in particular only worsens the pounding in their head. With an audible smack they force their palm against their forehead again.

“How’re you feeling?” Asgore asks a bit worried. Aofil sits down in the closest to a human sized one they can find.

“I’m fine, it’s just-” They catch a glimpse of Asgore and again has to force their laugh to stay inside. Even if it means feeling like the thumping is gonna bulge their head outwards.

Asgore peers at Aofil from behind the pair of sunglasses Aofil gave Toriel so many years ago. “Do you want anything? Tea, perhaps?” With some effort he reaches over the table for the kettle. “Golden Flower still fine?”

Aofil nods carefully. “Yeah, I think I can manage.”

Asgore reaches behind his shoulder and manages to hook a teacup from the cupboard with his claw. “So, did we ever come to a consensus over the whiskey?”

“No idea. Is there even anything left of it?”

Asgore searches his mind thoroughly, and almost overfills the teacup. He realizes in the last second, and saves his lap from a waterfall of scolding tea. “I honestly can’t tell. Not that I’ve looked for it.”

He tries to spot it through the window, but he’s forced to abandon his search after a second or so. He shakes his head carefully. “I’ll look for it once the sun has calmed down.”

Aofil blows on their tea. “All these years and the sun still hurts?”

Asgore chuckle shakes the table. He then pushes his hand towards his forehead. “Oh...” he moans. Aofil should feel bad, but seeing Asgore with those sunglasses, and with this hangover. There isn’t a single thing that could sour their mood.

But speaking of sour, the tea. Damn, it’s been a while. A very long while. It’s almost as if Aofil tasted it for the first time. They swoosh it around in their mouth. Some subtle smoke follows their pleased exhale, and they find themselves a bit more comfortable with their head.

Their arm though? How will it react? Aofil has a believable reason for feeling ill now. If they do force up some determination, perhaps they can give it to Alphys so that she can test it. In any case, they can still enjoy the tea while it lasts. So why not?

“Anything else, Aofil?” offers Asgore. “Cereal, bread, fruit?”

“Cereal, please.”

Asgore again leans back and grabs a bowl and a spoon. His chair is surprisingly quiet during the drastic shift of weight. He then swings his finger in front of two different kinds of cereal.

Aofil picks the one that isn’t MTT branded, nor with Mettaton swimming around in a sea of chocolate.

“So,” Asgore flips open his newspaper again after handing Aofil the cereal, “are you gonna stay here?”

Aofil stops mid pouring of their cereal. They glance up at Asgore who himself glances over from his paper. “I don’t know...”

Asgore’s smile shines almost as bright as the sun, but it hurts infinitely less. “No need to rush the decision if you don’t want to, Aofil. I just want you to know that the door’s open for you when,” he clears his throat, “if, you feel like it. The same from Toriel, I’m certain of that. Just give either of us a call, alright? We’ll sort things out for you.”

Aofil nods, and continues with their cereal. Asgore returns to his paper, but his smile doesn’t fade.

Among the sound of large pieces of paper being flipped, and cereal being crunched, Aofil still finds enough focus to think about it all. What the pastor said, what Asriel said. Tylior, Toriel, everyone. When they sat on the bus they knew that this might’ve happened, yet they didn’t plan anything for it.

Why not? Aofil asks themselves. Because they hoped that it wouldn’t happen? In that case they’re stupid. Perhaps they had already made the choice? In that case, they’re also stupid.

So which flavor of stupid is it? The bitter one that lingers from the past? The one that tastes of what did happen? Or the other bitter one? The one that tastes of determination flowing and forcing Aofil’s mind to places they never want to go?

Which one brings the most sweet? That is the real question.

Aofil knows the first one. The sweetness of not being burdened. They can always run, they can always not get involved. It’s easy, it’s safe. It might not make them completely happy, but it won’t make them completely miserable either. Being not completely miserable is a pretty good state to be in, considering what can happen if their curse blossoms further than what Aofil is able to control. Do they love their friends enough to not endanger them?

The second taste is just like the next sip of tea Aofil takes. Yes, it’s sweet, but also very sour. It’s also a risk. If their curse still is what they think it is, then it could shatter their friends, and themselves. Like if Aofil dropped their cup down onto the floor. Pieces and tea everywhere, and they would be the only one to blame

Aofil drinks another mouthful to quell the thumping reemerging in their head. The tea soothes, and their arm is still too. Seems like Alphys is the next stop then. She’s the only one Aofil knows that might have any idea how to, or at least try to, understand what their curse actually is. Determination is her strong suit. She did make Flowey, so something reverse wouldn’t be that far off?

Aofil’s conflicted expression catches Asgore’s attention, but he doesn’t pry further.

Maybe she won’t be so keen to experiment further, now that Aofil thinks about it. She’s their only shot though, so she’ll have to forgive Aofil for insisting.

After finishing his paper Asgore folds it up and offers it to Aofil, who politely declines. Asgore then throws the paper onto an empty chair next to him. He then removes the sunglasses and blinks deeply to adjust his eyes. It seems to work. “Anything on the agenda today? Need help booking a ride home? I could call Papyrus for you.”

“Haven’t planned that far ahead,” Aofil answers while halting the last spoon of cereal. They chew and swallow it quickly. “I was actually thinking of visiting Alphys and Undyne. You think they’re home by now?”

Asgore’s brow furrows as he thinks. “Should be? She, Alphys that is, I think has the day off today. Undyne mentioned something about the two of them taking a day out shopping. Can’t remember if it was today or tomorrow though.” He pats his pants. “If you give me a second I could call them for you.”

Aofil lifts their empty bowl, and Asgore throws his thumb towards the sink while his other hand is struggling to convince his phone to get out of his pants pocket. He dials the number quickly and puts the phone under his ear. “You want me to tell them you’re coming, or do you want to surprise them?”

Aofil finds an empty spot to balance their bowl on without collapsing everything. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

Asgore shrugs, “You did it with us,” and jumps a bit when Alphys answers. “Hello, Alphys! Tell me, was it today or tomorrow you had your day off? No reason, was just wondering. Oh, today? Good, thank you. Enjoy it!”

“So, today?” Aofil asks as Asgore disconnects the call.

“Yes, today. They live just down the street. You can’t miss it.” Asgore stands up with what can only be described as an old man grumble. “Come, I’ll walk you to the door. Don’t worry about the dishes, I’ll take care of them later.”

Aofil nods, and follows Asgore to the hallway.

“Morning, Frisk,” he wishes the human walking down the stairs rubbing their eyes.

Frisk opens their mouth to return the greeting, but just then Aofil comes into view. They halt their mouth mid opening.

Aofil smiles and nods to Frisk before fetching their shoes. They hear Frisk walk behind them towards the kitchen, and prepare for themselves what sounds like a bowl of cereal. Not the same kind though. The one’s Frisk is pouring sounds a bit more, chocolate.

“Strange...” Asgore mumbles. “Frisk is usually welcoming of mornings. Well, late mornings.”

“Maybe they had some whiskey as well?” Aofil tries to defuse.

“Don’t even joke about those things. Toriel would have my head if that were the case.”

“Then I’ll refrain from telling her. You said Alphys and Undyne was just down the road?”

Asgore returns his narrowed eyes to their usual round self as he opens the door for Aofil. “Yes, just down the road.”

Aofil offers their hand. “Thanks for letting me stay.”

Asgore takes it, and pulls Aofil into his embrace. “Anytime, Aofil.” He softens his grip, and Aofil takes a step back. Their hand is still firmly inside Asgore’s though. “If you decide against coming back, do make an effort to visit every once in a while? We do really miss you, every one of us.”

Asgore reluctantly lets go of Aofil’s hand. “I’ll keep that in mind, Asgore.”

“Please do.”

The door is with one last smile to Aofil, and they turn on their heel, and almost fall off them.

Wow! How didn’t they see the garden last night? Damn, they must’ve been tired. It’s gorgeous! Ir hurts them to look at it, but for all the good reasons. So many flowers, so many colors. Hedges and trees in even weirder shapes that what Asgore had at Mt. Ebott. Papyrus’ green head is smiling as always. The Delta Rune in all its glory.

Asgore’s been busy, and it shows. Every single one of these would win any and all botanical competition no problem.

Sadly the gravel road ends at the street, and the hallway of spectacular is but a thing behind Aofil. They turn around to get another glimpse of it, and conclude that it wasn’t a bad idea.

Down the road they head.

“You can’t miss it,” Aofil mouths with the closest they can come to Asgore’s voice as they stand in front of what has to be Alphys and Undyne’s house. It has too, there isn’t another possibility in this world or any other that such isn’t the case.

How to even describe it? Monstrous? Anime monstrous? Anime monstrous with a whiff of action movies? Anime monstrous with a whiff of action movies, and also looks like it could catch fire just by rubbing your hands together?

At least it doesn’t have any pink legs on it.

Aofil lifts up a hand to knock on the door, and a camera shutter changes focus next to them. They smile to it, and then knock a couple of times. The door seems surprisingly normal, but among all the silliness it stand out like a soar thumb.

Or a healthy one, in this case.

“New visitor,” the door addresses, because of course it does, “please provide your soul for identification.”

“Alphys...” What the hell is Aofil doing? Arguing with a door? “Alphys knows me, I’m a good friend of hers.”

“Your friend status cannot be found.”

Aofil rolls their eyes and bangs their fist against the door. “Alphys, your door won’t let me in!”

“Violence against passage detected! Deploying...”

The voice shuts down, and Alphys opens the door slightly. “I’m sorry, I don’t kno-”

Aofil nods. “Been a while.”

Alphys tilts her head. “Who are you?”

“You got some smudge on your glasses there, Alphys,” Aofil notices.

Alphys fumbles them off her face and surveys the pair through squinted eyes. With a couple of breaths she cleans them off on her shirt. Once she returns her glasses back she recoils. “Aofil!”

“How have you been, Alphys?”

“I-I’ve b-been f-fine. B-but you!”

“Who’re you talking to, Alphee?” screams a voice through the door next to Alphys. “Is it Papyrus? Tell him that I’ll give back his lawn mover when he’s proven that he doesn’t need it anymore!”

“Um, uh,” Alphys stammers as she leans towards the door. “It's Aofil.”

The sound of a shower slows down to a couple of drops, “Never, ever, lie about that, Alphys!” before starting back up again. “Almost gave me a heart attack.”

“Good thing she isn’t lying,” Aofil answers in Alphys’ place. Loud enough so that Undyne will hear.

The shower stops again, but with no more drops. It’s silent for a long while before a curtain is wrestled with from inside the bathroom. “Alphys?”

“Y-yes?”

“Who was that?”

“Not a lie,” Aofil repeats.

Wet footsteps close in on the bathroom door. Alphys takes a step back just in time as the door is flung open. The handle and the lock explode from the frame, and the towel loosely wrapped around Undyne’s hair flies off and hits the wall opposite the hall with a loud splat.

And her jaw hits the floor with an even louder thud.

“I can come back later once you’re done showering,” Aofil proposes while averting their eyes.

Before they have time to react Undyne charges at them. “Oh no you ain’t, punk!” She wraps her arm around Aofil, pushing her towel covered torso against theirs. “You’re staying here until you apologize!”

She bends her knees, “I’m gonna suplex you for every second you abandoned us! I’m gonna slam you so hard it’ll topple Mt. Ebott!” but doesn’t lift Aofil up. She bends her knees again, and squeezes Aofil tighter.

Her grip pushes the air out of Aofil’s lungs. “I’m gonna...”

Aofil manages to push her arms out so that they can breathe. “I’m gonna...”

“It’s okay, Undyne.”

“I,” Undyne throws herself into Aofil. “Where have you been!” she cries. “I’ve missed you so much!”

Aofil returns the hug. The rough scales feels good against their cheek. “Same here, Undyne.”

“Have you,” Undyne quells a sniffle, “Have you at least learned how to fight better?”

“Um...”

“Ngah!” Undyne pushes Aofil away from her. Aofil stumbles, but manages to catch their footing. “Not a phone call, not a message, not anything! And to top it all off, you haven’t even been training! Look at you!”

Aofil can’t see any obvious flaws with their form. “What?”

“You’re just so… Ngah!” Undyne summons a spear and throws it into the kitchen. It explodes against a cast steel pan with a pleasant ding. The pan ricochets off the wall and lands on the kitchen table, barely missing the Mikkarama figure. The figure wakes up and slashes its sword on the pan, again with a pleasant ding.

Undyne’s heavy breathing heaves her entire body up and down rhythmically. Just as Aofil moves a hand forward towards her she swings around. “You!” She spits out the mouthful of hair following her head. “You owe me lunch!” She points to Alphys. “Both of us! And not just any lunch!”

Undyne closes in on Aofil with heavy steps and lips pouted in contracted anger. Her quaking finger stops just a smidge away from Aofil’s eye. “The best damn lunch you can think of!”

“Uh, sure.”

Like a switch the anger from Undyne’s face drains away. A flashy smile takes its place, and she bumps Aofil’s shoulder with her fist. “Then let’s go, Aofil! You can help us buy some new clothes before we eat!”

“U-Undyne?”

Aofil dodges Undyne’s hair as she she turns her head to Alphys. “Yes?”

“Maybe some clothes now?” Alphys proposes with her head angled down.

“Oh,” Undyne realizes, “right. Wait for me then, it’ll just be a minute, nerds.”

She flies up the stairs with eager steps, leaving Alphys and Aofil averting their eyes as her towel falls off halfway up the stairs.

“You have a place in mind, Alphys?” Aofil asks before Undyne has time to get back.

“M-maybe?”

“You want to get some nicer clothes as well? A lab coat isn’t really the best attire for lunch.”

Alphys chuckles awkwardly. “N-not really, no.”

“Oh, and by the way. I have a favor to ask of you.”

“All done, nerds!” Undyne exclaims from the stop of the stairs. She leaps down and lands hard on the floor. It creaks as if in pain, but Undyne pays it no mind. With a raised arm towards the door she summons an eager grin. “Let’s go!”

Alphys glances up to Aofil. “I’ll ask it later,” they reply. “You go fix yourself up.”

Alphys nods and meanders up the stairs. Once out of sight Undyne beckons for Aofil to follow her outside. With a flick of her wrist she summons a spear, and tosses it to Aofil, who barely catches it.

“Be ready!” Undyne summons one for herself. “You’re about to make up for every training session you’ve missed!”

At least there’s grass underneath Aofil this time.


	17. Lucrative lunch

"Uh..."

"We both knew this would happen, Undyne. I'm to blame as well."

The spear in Aofil's hand fades away, and their hand drops down on the grass. They fill their other hand with Undyne's outstretched one, and she helps Aofil up from the grass.

"Sorry about your pants..."

"It's," Aofil notices that it actually is something, "nothing," they still say. They shake their leg and the ripped up strip falls off, exposing their leg from the knee down. "Doesn't look like you hit my skin though. So that’s good.”

“Should I,” Undyne summons a slim spear and rolls it in her hand, “cut the other?” she asks with a reserved finger pointing to Aofil’s fully covered leg. “Even it out?”

Aofil looks down at their pants. They blow their lips trying to decide, “I mean...” but can’t come to a conclusion.

“It’s sunny,” Undyne tries to convince. “I can’t see any clouds. So you won’t be cold or anything.”

Aofil taps their finger against their chin. “It gets a bit chilly after dark.”

“True.”

“But might as well, I guess?” Aofil shrugs. “If the weather allows for it. It’s just for lunch. I can probably get a new pair while we’re in the city.”

“So, shall I?” Undyne angles her spear towards Aofil’s leg.

Aofil nods.

Undyne sheepishly returns the nod. “So, yeah,” and takes a hesitant step forward, “stand still.”

She pokes a hole in Aofil’s other pant leg with her spear, and then neatly shuffles around Aofil. “Lift your other leg,” she asks. Aofil bends their already shortified leg up, and Undyne completes the circle. She slices the tube of jeans in half before snipping it off. She picks it and the other piece up and balls them in her hand.

“You want me to do the same with your arms?”

Absolutely freaking not!

“No,” Aofil summons a smile, “it’s fine.”

Undyne acknowledges with another disbelieving nod. “Right. Good.”

The sound of the front door closing, and the subsequent voice of it informing that it is now alarmed. “Have a nice out of the house experience, Alphys!” follows the yellow lizard meandering down the pathway.

Aofil shrugs a hand towards her, and Undyne nods. They both join Alphys halfway down the pathway.

“So,” Undyne pockets the torn pieces of fabric, “where to, Aofil? Remember, it’s gonna have to make up for all these years, whelp!”

Alphys catches Aofil’s eyes, and with a series of very impressive lettering with her hand, she spells out the name of…

“MTT?”

“No!” Undyne cuts Aofil off. “Not that one.”

“Why not?”

“Oh yeah,” Alphys remembers. “Last time we...”

Undyne puts her hand over Alphys’ mouth. “Not important,” Undyne deflects. “And there are so many others. Pick another!”

Alphys spells out another restaurant.

“I know!” Undyne exclaims before Aofil has time to piece together what Alphys signed for them. “Let’s go to Muffet’s!”

Alphys complains from behind Undyne’s hand. It's too muffled to make out. Undyne removes her hand. “But her prices,” Alphys repeats. “I don’t think she’ll lower them, even for us.”

Undyne leans in none too subtle to Alphys. “Aofil’s paying though,” she whispers none too more subtle. Alphys looks up to Aofil, who shrugs. Can’t be that expensive?

Oh, it is.

“For just one doughnut?” Aofil heart almost falls out of their toes as they see the price written on the chalkboard outside Muffet’s shop.

Undyne shakes her head. “Nah.”

Phew.

“Spider doughnut, not just a doughnut,” she corrects Aofil.

Aofil catches the sweat they dried off and puts it right back on their forehead. This must be a joke, right? Muffet did have a similar price when Aofil met her, but that must’ve been sarcastic, right? All she wanted then was their soul. Oh yeah, hopefully she’s at least dropped that pretense.

A spider with a piece of chalk skitters out from underneath the door and walks up to the board. It jumps up and adds a zero after the Spider cider underneath the doughnut.

Guess not, then…

“You absolutely sure we have to eat here?” Aofil asks Undyne with their arms crossed. Undyne flashes a smile back.

“Should’ve thought about that before you left us, human!” she laughs.

The spider stops adding zeros to the other item on the menu. It leaps up to the top of the chalkboard and stands there for a couple of seconds before swinging down to the ground. It goes through Alphys’ legs and stops underneath Aofil who bends their head down with a pair of raised and uncertain eyebrows.

They flinch as a string is shot up towards their head. The spider hauls itself up and hangs just in front of Aofil’s face. Just as Aofil manages to wrestle their eyes into focusing on the spider it jumps off and scurries into the store. Aofil rubs their eyes as the drastic shift in focus hurts their head.

“Why did it do that?” Undyne ponders with her fingers scratching her lobe.

“You’re the monster,” Aofil reminds, “you tell me.”

Before Undyne can snark back the door bursts open, and an enormous spider charges out. It throws itself onto Aofil who stumbles backward with it in their arms. The spider reaches for Aofil’s face with its mouth and Aofil instinctively throws it away from them.

The spider lands on its feet and charges Aofil again. The stiff hairs on its body swipes Aofil’s exposed legs, stinging them, but not breaking through the skin. With a grumble the spider prepares another charge, but Undyne tackles it before it can flank back towards Aofil.

“Ngah! I thought she had this eight legged mistake under control!” Undyne grunts as she struggles to keep the sporadic spider under control. “It never attacked us before!”

“M-maybe,” Alphys thinks out loud, “b-because Aofil is a...”

“Human!”

Again Aofil stumbles, but this time forwards, as they’re wrapped up in string and dragged into the shop. An even larger spider wraps itself around them with all of her arms. The bow tie on her head is caught in Aofil’s mouth.

“You finally came! Ahuhuhu!” Muffet giggles eagerly. “I know one day you would!”

A circle of normal sized, to Aofil’s enormous relief, spiders rappel down from the ceiling and twirl around Aofil and Muffet.

“Yes,” Aofil agrees while simultaneously trying to wiggle as carefully as they can out of the webbing holding them up. “I’m here!”

A monster that Aofil has never seen before stands up from a chair next to them. It mouths a quiet thanks before running out of the shop with a whimper.

After what seems like an eternity Muffet finally let’s go of Aofil, but with only one pair of arms. “I’m gonna make a special batch just for you, human,” she teases with a poke on Aofil’s nose. After another eternity a spider whispers something in her ear. “Oh,” she realizes, and let’s the rest of her arms off Aofil before heading back into her bakery.

She leaves the webbing on them though, which Aofil is having a bit of trouble getting out of.

“Muffin!” Muffet calls from the bakery. “I need your help!”

Aofil sidesteps the large spider dragging a sputtering Undyne in through the front door. She looses grip when her toes hook on the doorstep, and the spider scurries past the remaining customers, who all jolt back at the sight of it.

“One day,” Undyne mutters. “One day I’ll punt that ball of drool back into the Underground.”

Oh yeah, that’s when Aofil met Muffet. Back when they first went trough the Underground. Although, that was before the reset.

Oh wait...

Shit, Muffet remembers!

Didn’t seem to hurt her though, so maybe Aofil’s lucky? But still, damn. Aofil thought that was done and behind them.

Like they thought the monsters were too…

“Aofil, y-you alright?”

Aofil shakes the thoughts away. “Yeah, I’m just-” and tries to take a step. The webbing around their legs almost has them falling over. “Huh.”

“I can,” Undyne looks down and realizes that she’s still face down on the floor. She jumps up back on her feet, almost hitting Alphys with her hair again. “I can cut you loose. If you want, that is.”

“Yes? Is that even a question?”

Undyne winks towards the humming spider inside the bakery. “She hugged you.”

“S-she did?” Alphys voice cracks from the sheer force question, and she taps her claws, ”I mean, s-she did?”

“Oh yeah, she did! Which gives me an idea, Alphee.”

“I’m still here,” Aofil reminds, but to no effect. “Still wrapped inside this webbing.”

Undyne puts her hand on Aofil’s shoulder. “And for my plan to work Aofil needs to stay like this.”

“So that offer about cutting me loose?” Aofil reminds while trying, and failing, not to sound sarcastic.

“We can order everything on the menu, and not pay a single piece! All you have to do, Aofil, is to...” Undyne pauses for dramatic effect while she leans in towards Aofil with a smile that stretches over her entire face.

“No,” Aofil replies before Undyne can finish.

She retorts with a nod.

“No,” Aofil repeats.

“Spider smooches.” Undyne hangs on every syllable, dragging the words out until they’re as stretched out as her smile. “All of the spider smooches, Aofil.”

“Let me think it over.” Aofil doesn’t. “No!”

“Come on,” Undyne sloshes around dramatically. “Would you rather pay what she’s priced her stuff? Look!” Undyne points to another spider with a piece of chalk making its way outside. “She’s raising them again!”

“Alphys,” Aofil sighs. “Please help me.”

“U-Undyne, why don’t we just eat somewhere else? I can talk to Mettaton and have him lift our ban.”

“Go outside and call him then,” Undyne suggests, “but when the waste of steel eventually says no, we’ll continue with my plan.”

“Oh,” Alphys wasn’t prepared for that answer, “alright.” She whips out her phone from her pocket and steps out of the store.

“Even if Alphee manages,” Undyne’s face sinks into a tired frown. “I still don’t want to eat there. It always leaves a plastic taste in my mouth. Most likely because he actually serves plastic!”

“That may be so, but you know what would leave an even worse taste? Kissing a spider just so that you can eat for free, Undyne!”

Undyne lifts a finger to reply, but she’s interrupted by a metallic crash from the bakery. Her face freezes, and when Aofil turns around to see what might’ve caused it, theirs freezes too.

Six hands quiver in the doorway to the kitchen. Five eyes stare stunned at the wrapped up human. Four cups fall of their plates, and smash against the floor. Three fingers lose strength, allowing the kettle in them to follow the cups. Two lips shake as they try to form words.

And one quiet sob fills the stunned silence in the shop.

With her head hanging low, and her arms swinging like cooked and tired spaghetti, Muffet returns back into her bakery. A small army of smaller spiders emerge from the woodwork to carry the broken porcelain and bent kettle after her.

The shop is quiet, and the rest of the customers takes the opportunity to sneak out as quietly as possible. They all thank Aofil and Undyne on the way out.

“Oh, goosebumps,” Alphys notices on Aofil as she returns into the store. “I’ve read about these. They aren’t hurting, right, Aofil? They’re all over your legs, so hopefully that isn’t the case. It isn’t that cold in here though. Compared to outside, yes, but you didn’t leave? I would’ve noticed if you did. Why did the rest of the customers leave though?”

“Alphys,” Undyne whispers.

“Hm?” Alphys manages to tear her eyes off Aofil’s legs. “Ah, yes. Mettaton promised to lift the ban, b-but,” she wrings her hands together, “y-you have to h-help him with endorsing h-his new fashion line.”

“Yeah, sure,” Undyne answers without hearing what Alphys said. She summons a small spear and cuts Aofil loose. “We should go.”

Aofil rolls their stiff shoulders out now that they can. “I feel like I should apologize to her.”

“And risk her pet biting your freaking face off?”

Aofil glances back at the bakery. Failed attempts to hold back sobs echo from out of it. There’s also a low and angry growling next to it.

Aofil decides that a face saved is better than a saved face, and follows Undyne out the shop.

“Now that that plan’s gone,” Undyne starts after a sigh once they’re all out of charging spider distance. “Alphys, did you manage to convince that squeaky vacuum to let us in again, Alphys?”

“Y-yes.”

“Great!,” Undyne exclaims. Her face immediately turns into a frown as she wonders if it really is that great.

Aofil snaps Undyne out of her thinking with a snap of their fingers. “Is the restaurant far away from here?” they ask Alphys after snapping once again to challenge Undyne’s dare for them to try it one more time.

“H-he said to not worry about walking.”

Aofil wrestles their head out of Undyne’s lock around it. “Is it that close?” Undyne catches it back with a playful chuckle.

“No, it’s on the other side of the c-city.”

“So how do we get there?” Undyne taps on Aofil’s skull with her finger. “Any great ideas in here, Aofil? Besides not listening to my warnings? Ngah!”

Her footsteps halt in place as a screeching sound flies around the corner. She lets go of Aofil and pushes her palms against her forehead while almost throwing her back out as she lunges her head up towards the sky. “Anything but that!”

Before Aofil has time to ask a bright pink and matte black limousine screeches, but this time to a halt, right next to them. Aofil trusts their instincts and takes a step back from the door. A second after it is kicked open by a pink metallic boot. It whirs back into the limousine.

An equally extended hand stops Alphys from taking another step forward towards the car. “The human first,” informs a voice from inside. The hand retracts as well, leaving room for Aofil to get inside.

“You must be Aofil,” Mettaton greets as Aofil carefully steps inside the car. “I’ve heard quite a bit about you, human.”

Aofil scoots in a bit so that Alphys and Undyne can get in as well. Undyne closes the door so hard that the handle comes off. She shows it to Mettaton with an innocent smile. “Whoops, my mistake.”

“Mistake alright,” Mettaton mumbles and subsequently ignoring the stare from Undyne. He knocks carefully on the tinted window towards the driver. “To the restaurant, dear.”

“You got it,” comes a muffled response before the limousine takes off in a haste.

“So, human,” Mettaton starts by crossing his legs, “what’s your agent’s number?”

Aofil’s face contorts in confusion. “Agent?”

“Oh,” Mettaton produces a pen from his finger, and a stack of papers from the seat in front of him, “even better.”

“I’m not signing it.”

“Human, darling, don’t be so rash now. It’s just a formality.”

Aofil runs their finger through the mountain of papers. “A formality that killed a tree. I’m not signing it, or anything else, for that matter.”

Mettaton puts his arm over Aofil. “My dearest human.”

Sparks crackle next to Aofil’s ear as Undyne drives a short spear through Mettaton’s arm. “You might need to tinker a bit with Mettaton’s hearing, Alphee. Apparently he can’t hear when someone says no. Remove his entire head while you’re at it!”

“Oh my,” Mettaton fakes dread, “The head of the Royal Guard has once again gone off and attacked an undeserving form of a human,” and returns his crackling arm back to himself. “She’s learned to do it to one in her own size though.”

The spear grows in width, and separates Mettaton’s arm in two. “Good luck pointing fingers at me now,” Undyne growls. She evaporates her spear and sinks down into her seat with her arms crossed.

“U-Undy?” Alphys stammers in fear.

“It’s nothing, Alphee,” she replies while battling her face to stay unfazed. She shoots a glaring look at Mettaton, who’s too busy taking Aofil’s measurement without them noticing. “This toaster has as much impact on me as his acting careers has successes.”

“The only lip I want from you, Undyne love, is them taut in a smile while you’re presenting my new MTT branded fashion line. It doesn’t have to be genuine, but it has to be there if I’m to go through with lifting your ban. If we compare monetary value this is but a drop in the money bucket, dear. I’m extending my hand to you, even though you cut it off.”

Aofil finally realizes the measuring tape around their waist, “Hey!” but Mettaton’s already finished.

“Fashion line? Like hell that I want to wear anything made by you!” Undyne spits out. “I’m pretty sure it would catch fire just like the camera you gave us.”

Mettaton cocks his head in genuine bewilderment. “Then why did you get in the car, dearie? I told Alphee that was my one condition.”

Undyne cocks her head in equal confusion. “When did you say that, Alphee?”

Alphys’ claws tap together nonrhythmically. “I-I did say that to you, U-Undyne. You said y-yes.”

“I did? When?”

“A-after I called Mettaton.”

“You do have to do it more often, Alphee,” Mettaton intersects. “There’s ever so much I want to discuss with you, sweetie.”

“I was busy preparing for Muffet or her pet to lunge out at us! I’ve never seen her that upset before, who knew what she would’ve done? She jumps into Aofil’s arms, and then she overhears them saying that she’s disgusting.”

“It’s not what I said,” Aofil corrects.

“It’s what she heard, Aofil!” Undyne shouts over Alphys’ head. “And trust me, I’ve had to deal with her for far less than that.”

“Muffet?” Mettaton asks with a curios knuckle under his chin. “How is that adorable arachnid doing? I really must try and get some of her confectionery for my restaurant.” His head moves robotically to Aofil. “You said she jumped into Aofil’s arms, Undy?”

“Judging by the last time you hired Muffet…” Undyne mumbles with clenched teeth.

“You want to fill her in on that, Alphee?” Mettaton asks with a plastered smile.

A speaker mounted on the roof informs with a muffled voice. “We’ll be arriving in a short while, M.”

“For as much as I love to bring up old memories, Undyne, I’d love more an answer,” Mettaton says while cheeking his face in the mirror on the back of the seat in front of him.

“No, I’m not gonna get within a spear length of you or your fashion!”

Mettaton sighs dramatically, “What a shame,” as the car stops. The door Undyne’s leaning her back on is opened, and she falls out onto a red carpet. Mettaton opens his door and basks in the camera flashes firing off in rapid succession.

“My dears! My darlings! My everythings!” he greets the crowd outside. “Thank you all so much for joining me this day for this marvelous event! The new collection of MTT fashion is within your grasps, and to show how much like me you will, maybe, be, I have with me the one and only,” Mettaton knocks on the top of the car and it speeds away, “Undyne!”

Aofil and Alphys can only watch through the back window as Undyne stands up with a spear forming in her hand. Mettaton leans in quick to her, and after a second the spear in Undyne’s hand disappears.

“Oh n-no!” Alphys grips her tail and holds it tight. She looks to Aofil for an answer, but they know just as much as she does.

After a minute or so the car eventually slows down. Aofil tries to open the door, but it’s locked. They knock on the window to the driver. “The doors?” they ask.

They hear the driver door open and the lock on their own door disengaging.

“Yoooo!”

Aofil narrows their eyes. “MK?”

Standing in a suit, with his chin on the top of the door, MK’s smile widens until it almost tears his cheeks apart. “Teacher! Wow!”

“Wow, indeed,” Aofil agrees while helping Alphys out of the car. MK closes the door behind her and almost bounces up in the air with glee.

“And Alphys! Wow! I’ve been driving you two?”

“Yeah, apparently you have. Listen, what’s Mettaton’s plan with Undyne?”

MK’s eyes expand until they almost knock over his hat. “Undyne too? Where is she?”

“You dropped her off a minute or so ago.” Aofil points up the road. “She and Mettaton.”

MK pauses for a minute to think. The protruding scales on his back tenses the fabric at the basis of them while he thinks with his head lowered. He shoots up after a couple of seconds. “Is she gonna be modeling? Maybe I should ask if Radentim could persuade an autograph from Undyne.”

His head lowers back into thinking. “But then, why are you two here?”

“Um, you tell us?” Aofil asks, very much eager to hear the answer.

MK nods to a door. “That one leads to backstage, as M likes to call it. I’m guessing because you two are also gonna be modeling? He told me to drop off his guests here.”

“M-modeling?” Alphys repeats with a squeal of fear. She looks down at herself, and her tail again finds her hands.

The door opens and a monster with a clipboard halfheartedly waves Aofil and Alphys in. “Radentim session with Undyne, come on.”

MK taps on Aofil’s shoulder with his tail. “Yoo, teacher. It’s good to see you again. Are you gonna move here from your city?”

“I’m thinking about it.”

“Cool! I still know the cloud trick, by the way!”

“Really? That’s nice of you.”

MK is forced to abandon it halfway as a voice starts talking in his ear. “Again? Even quicker? Yes, M. I’m on my way, M,” he responds. “Sorry, boss called,” he apologizes with his face still red from the failed cloud. He jumps back into the car, and wiith a slick three point turn he flies back up the alley he came from.

Aofil nods. That’s some impressive driving.

Wait… No! Damn it!

Aofil forgot to ask how MK can drive!

“Hey! We’re on a schedule here!” shouts the impatient monster from the doorway.“Let’s go! M will have my paycheck if you’re not there in time!”

“A-Aofil...” Alphys begs.

Maybe next time Aofil will remember to ask…

“Yeah, we’re on our way...”

The corridor the monster takes Aofil and Alphys through is filled with commotion. Clothes are flung from room to room, and Aofil is bumped on more than one occasion. The monster leading the way pays it no mind. His clipboard seems to be his only focus. He doesn’t even look up from it as he opens a door for Aofil and Alphys, “In here,” and closes it behind them instantly. Aofil can hear him shouting just outside the door.

On a chair in front of a mirror sits Undyne, her one hand squeezing the leather on the chair, and the other holding a crumpled photograph. Obscenities flow from her mouth like a ferocious river through her gritted teeth.

Alphys approaches her slowly.

“A-are you alright?” she asks carefully.

“I knew that camera he gave us was rigged. I knew it!”

Alphys catches a glimpse of the photograph in Undyne’s hand. She puts her hands up to her face, and turn to Aofil with it blossoming bright red. Aofil catches a glimpse of it as well, and their face blossoms as well as they see what it’s from.

The adult anime the three of them stumbled upon.

“Yeah,” Undyne says, destroying the photograph in her hand in a fizzle of magic. “I’m gonna smash it when we get home, Alphee. I don’t care if it’s just ash now. I’m gonna find a way!”

Aofil decides not to let on that they saw it. They wonder how in the world Undyne managed to get into that small of a dress though.

Maybe it’s not too bad to ask?

They don’t have time too, as Mettaton opens the door beaming with joy and energy. “Darlings! So glad to have you all here! Radentim should be with you shortly, but first I’d like to introduce to you your fourth model.”

He steps aside, and with his hand and head bowed he welcomes inthe fourth one.

“Human!”

Oh god no.

“Yes, Muffet,” Mettaton reaffirms, “that is indeed the human. Like I said, Aofil is really hurtful over their actions and words. So much so that they want to reconcile with you. Isn’t that right, Aofil? Show us what’s in your back pocket.”

Back pocket?

Aofil pats it, and feels that there’s something in it. They pull out a pink and black ticket. They almost immediately drop it as Muffet’s gasp startles them.

“Human? For me?” she asks before leaping into Aofil’s arms again. “Thank you!”

Aofil struggles their arm out so that they can read the card.

“A romantic date for two as payment?” Mettaton asks. “Oh, Aofil darling, how sweet of you. And here I thought that you convincing me to call Muffet to make a buffet was so that I could get a good price for an order. Darling, you’re such a tease.”

His smug self congratulation fills the room like a thick blanket, but Mettaton marches through with no regards or care about it.

“Aofil also told me that you would want to look your best, and that they would too, and I happily agreed. You’ll both be dining in the latest of MTT fashion overlooking the show.”

“We just need to sign...” Aofil starts.

“You just need to sign these papers,” Mettaton interrupts, presenting once again the stack of papers to Aofil. “It’s just a non disclosure agreement, or in layman terms,” he clicks the pen dragged out from his finger, “just a formality.”


	18. A web of thoughts

"A waiter will be along with you shortly, darlings."

Mettaton hangs his eyes on the spider and human he's so perfectly dressed for this occasion. He fans himself as the magnificence of his creation smiles back at him. Not necessarily its wearers.

"Oh," he flusters, humbled by his own magnificent designs, "I am such a genius,” before leaving Muffet and Aofil alone on one of the many balconies overlooking the huge diner hall. The amount of monsters and humans below, and above them, is staggering. Aofil and Muffet has a prime spot overlooking the ground floor, and the stage.

A house band consisting of different ghosts are setting the mood with some smooth jazz. How a ghost can use a saxophone without lungs is beyond Aofil, but the ghost is keeping the notes, so they can’t really complain.

Aofil peers over the sea of monsters and humans below them. None of them rings any bells at a glance. None of the Dreemurrs are there. No skeletons either. Aofil thinks they see Tylior, but the monster sitting next to that human is not Sevoltne. Wrong color for it to be her.

And speaking of sea...

An aquarium acting as a wall opposite of the balconies bathes the grandiose room in light blue. The water is filled with aquatic monsters of various sizes and shapes. A couple of Aarons are adding the finishing touches on the submerged stage. Gonna be interesting to see how the water collection will be presented. Will Undyne be presenting there?

Can she even breathe underwater? Or is Aofil being racist again? Better not to assume and instead wait for her. She looked pretty pissed when Aofil left her with Radentim. The worst that might happen is that she and Mettaton will get into a fight during the show. It would be very interesting to see that happen though. So again, Aofil can’t complain.

Aofil spots what they think is a human inside the water, and with no scuba gear. Weird… They pick up a pair of ornate binoculars on a thin metal stick and narrow their eyes to get a better look.

It’s just their own reflection.

Fair enough.

“Ahuhuhu!” Muffet giggles as she tugs and explores her new dress. Dark red with a purple spider web laced across the entire fabric in a reflective yarn. The web glitters in the blue light, making it look like it’s sprinkled with crystals.

Her bow tie is very much a crystal, but bent in a way that reminds Aofil of Asgore’s garden. How it’s molded in a way that has to be magic.

Aofil looks down and sees Mettaton’s face sprawled over their chest. The jacket they were give is better described as a pair of arms held together by a back part. It seems to be designed to expose whatever undershirt the wearer is using, and right now it’s Mettaton’s face and body in a whirlwind of sparkles and hearts. It’s also two sizes too small for Aofil, and they tuck at it to try and relax the tense fabric. They have to be careful in their movement so that it doesn’t fall off and expose their arm.

Muffet notices and puts a hand over her mouth. “You’re making Mettaton into spaghetti.”

“Well, he should’ve thought about that before he insisted that it was my size.”

At least Aofil is their own gender after Radentim this time.

The drape separating the balcony from the corridor rustles, and a sharply dressed monsters enters. It bows with one head while the other refills Aofil and Muffet’s glasses with water.

“Good evening, and welcome to MTT Surface. It will be my pleasure to serve you this spectacular evening. M told me to sends his blessings in form of a wine recommendation and a message,” the left head starts.

“Drinks and food are on him this evening, as per the contract you signed,” finishes the right head.

A surprised Aofil looks over to Muffet, and then back at the waiter. “Oh?”

“Yes, and he also recommends the ‘King’s Cellar’ this fine evening. A smooth red with a hint of soul and glam. Stored next to the fallen humans during the time of our imprisonment, the ‘King’s Cellar’ goes well with any form of red meat and or spider cheese.”

“It does,” Muffet nods. “Or, so I’ve heard...”

“Is that a yes from you too?” the right head asks Aofil, who’s eyes narrow.

“Just a couple of questions.”

“Of course,” the left head allows.

Aofil smacks their lips. “Asgore stored it next to the dead humans?”

A muffled yelp emerges from the right head. It taps on its left head and whispers something in it’s ear.

The left one’s eyes widen. “Oh no, you’re right. It is a human!” it stage whispers back.

“No, it’s not because of that,” the left one tries to explain while constantly looking to the right head for advice. “I-It’s because, um?”

Aofil leans back with their hands clamped over their stomach. This outta be good.

“L-look, I just work here. I didn’t write these descriptions.”

“And then Mettaton stole the bottles from Asgore when he wasn’t looking?” Aofil pries further.

“I… He...”

The two headed monster looks to Muffet for any help, and she moves her head to Aofil.

“Bring us a bottle, please. Who am I to deny his recommendation?” Aofil asks, feeling some pity form for the waiter. “I’ll have a talk with him about the description though.”

The monster bows its two heads. “T-thank you.”

“And an order of garlic bread, please,” Aofil adds.

“Yes, yes,” the right head scribbles down the order.

“Anything f-for you?” the left one asks Muffet.

“Oh,” she picks up the menu and eyes through the first page of the menu. “Maybe some spider cheese, perhaps? Crystal Cave stored, if you have.”

“Certainly,” the right head nods, “I’ll be back in a short while.”

Before the red velvet drape can settle behind the monster after it leaves, an audible sigh is heard through it. Aofil shakes their head and meets Muffet. “I thought that any mention of the fallen children was frowned upon. Gotta have a word with Mettaton about that.”

“I’ve always wanted to try that wine...” Muffet admits while averting her eyes from Aofil.

“I’m sure it’s good, it’s just that I don’t really know why Mettaton would describe it with the fallen humans. Strange.”

“I’d rather not talk about them, or the trial.”

“Me neither, actually. So, instead, why not talk about, let’s see.” Aofil searches their mind. There’s one thing they really want to know, but it’s risky. They’ll have to be careful with what they ask.“After we met in the Underground, Muffet.”

Her cheeks blush brighter than her dress. “I remember.”

“When did you surface afterwards?”

“When my request for my bakery was granted.” Muffet leans on two of her knuckles. “You humans have such wonderful machines for baking.”

“They’re made for two arms, so you having six must be very efficient.”

“Yes!” Muffet nods. “And the ingredients I can use. It’s so much easier not to wait for spices to fall down the Garbage Dump. I don’t have to convince others to let me have them, I can just order them myself.”

“Don’t have to use souls in your baking anymore?”

“No.”

Aofil nods approvingly. “Good. Sounds like you’ve adapted to the Surface quite well. Do you get a lot of human customers?”

“There aren’t many living in Monster City.” Muffet leans out and surveys the tables below her. “There are more here in the restaurant than there are living permanently in the city.”

“Any that visits you?”

“No,” Muffet’s eyes lose focus, and sink down, “they don’t.”

“I’m sorry it took so long for me to keep my promise,” Aofil apologizes with a hand caressing their chin. “And I’m sorry about what I said.”

“I thought you would be there during my opening. I had my spiders carry fliers all over the city. The bakery was jam packed. Ahuhuhu. So many monsters, so many doughnuts. But you weren’t there. Then I thought you would be there when the Above School opened. I knew you were the teacher during the Dreemurrs stay in the Ebott city, so I thought you would move here to teach. And then when I had my one year anniversary. After that I started to question if you ever made that promise. Now that I think back at it, it feels like you didn’t? But I also remember you promising.”

Aofil decides that it’s time. Muffet’s memories are wide open to her. It’s not something Aofil wants to ask, but they have to. They have to at least try to learn how it all works, and if it might connect to their curse.

Aofil refills Muffet’s glass, and takes a deep breath. “Muffet. I have to ask you something. It’s important.”

Her eyes widen, and not too subtly, she adjusts her bow tie and dress. “Yes, human?”

“How do you feel remembering all of this? When thinking back to when we met, how does it feel to you?”

Muffet moves back in her chair. “I, I don’t understand what you mean, human.”

“Do you feel like your head is clouded when thinking back? Like you’re being torn between two memories?”

“I, I don’t know?”

Argh! How can Aofil formulate it so that she understands? They can’t tell her why, that would shatter this bubble they’re trying to carefully poke. Why does she remember to being with? That’s the question! How to ask it? Damn it!

“H-human?” Muffet asks carefully.

“After we met,” Aofil prays that they remember the order of events correctly, “Mettaton captured a human. He televised it live, do you remember?”

Muffet searches her mind. “Yes, I think so. It was a long time ago.”

“Yes, I know, but it’s important that you remember. Before we met there was a show on air as well, right?”

“Yes?”

“Think about that, the show, us meeting, and then the second show. How does it feel to you?”

Muffet eyes narrow in hesitation.

“Please,” Aofil puts their hands together. “It’s really important to me that you do this.”

“If you say so.” Muffet closes her eyes, and Aofil leans forward to observe her. At first it seems fine. She tilts her head a couple of times, but her expression is still hesitant. “Human, I...”

Her head jerks in thought, and her lips curl back, confused. “N-no,” she whispers. “That’s not how it went!” She pauses. “Or did it?” she asks with her quivering tongue. Her voice trails off as she mumbles inconsistently to herself. “But then? How? No, that’s not possible.”

Aofil can’t snap her out of it, not now. She needs to go further, Aofil needs to understand.

“H-human?” Muffet whimpers. “W-what’s happening? How did we meet? Did we meet? I remember, but there’s something else in the way. I was baking for the human tour, I know it. I still have the order.”

Her face distorts back and forth between understanding and utter bewilderment. Aofil recognizes it, they’re far too familiar with it. She’s searching her mind, but she’s lost on two paths simultaneously. It’s not supposed to be a fork in the road when trying to remember, and she’s struggling to make a choice. But how can she when both are equally valid? How can she choose a truth?

Answer is, she can’t, and she’s panicking because of it. It’s not enough though, Aofil can’t help her back, not yet. She’s not too far in. She’ll make it...

“You never met me! You never made a promise!” Muffet clutches her head with two of her hands. “Yes, you did meet me! You made a promise!”

And then with four. “I couldn’t bake, I was with you!.”

And finally, with six. “But I couldn’t be with you, I was baking!”

Why is she struggling, but not Mettaton? Why was the builder struggling, but not the suit? Why one, and not the other? What’s the connection? There has to be one! Some form of clue has to be revealed. Otherwise Muffet is hurting for nothing.

Can Aofil force one memory over the other? Is it possible?

“Muffet, I was there with you,” Aofil fuels. She clutches her head harder between her hands. “Does that clear it up?”

“How? I can’t understand.”

Aofil sighs, apparently not.

“I had flour all over me,” Muffet spurts. “B-but I remember my dress. You leaned over. I had flour on my cheek, why didn’t you brush it away before...”

Wait. Is that it? Is the connection, just connection? Is it that simple? No, it can’t be, can it? The builder… He…He promised Aofil’s dad. The suit, was just doing their job. Mettaton, is Mettaton.

Muffet though? It was just a peck on her cheek. Or was it more for Muffet?

Muffet buries her claws into her head. “Human!” she weeps. “It hurts!”

Just a little more, Aofil just needs a little more time to be sure. They’ll pull her out of it if it goes overboard, they promise.

“Human!” she cries.

Just a little more.

“My head!”

Damn it! Aofil can’t watch her any more. They walk around the table to her and grabs a pair of her arms. “Muffet,” they try, but not getting through to her. Did they wait too long?

“Muffet!” Aofil tries again, harder this time. They drag away her hands from her head, and holds them in place. She’s shaking, almost violently. Aofil removes another pair of quivering arms. “It’s me, Muffet. The human.”

“Human?” she asks, regaining control over her eyes. They slow down underneath her eyelid, and she opens her eyes slowly. “Human?” she asks again.

Aofil nods. “Yes, it’s me.”

“W-where are we? This is...” she looks around her, petrified. “This isn’t my home. Where is Muffin?”

God damn it! Why was Aofil so greedy? “We’re at Mettaton’s restaurant, Muffet,” they try to reason, helping her find a way back. “Look at your dress.”

She jolts back as she looks down, “What’s this?!” and hits the low wall around the balcony. Aofil catches one of her arms and pulls her back. They ease her back into her seat with care.

“Is this his show?” she asks. “No, it’s over.” She shakes her head. “No, it’s about to begin.”

“Muffet, you’re not in the Underground, you’re on the Surface.”

But it doesn’t work. Aofil’s reasoning doesn’t work! What have they done? Is she lost forever?

What did Aofil do with Toriel when she fell back? Snails? No, it can’t be snails. What did Aofil do? Argh! It was so long ago!

They… they told her what taste the snails were. Yeah, so it was the snails. What did it mean to her? What can Aofil do to Muffet to help her? What did Aofil do with Muffet?

They had some tea with her, they pet her dog, and then they…

Oh…

Aofil leans in towards Muffet, and kisses her on the cheek. She stops, frozen. Aofil tries again.

“Human...” Muffet’s voice is steady again. Aofil releases her hands, and she brings one up to her cheek. She touches it, and it blossoms bright red. “Ahuhuhu,” she giggles.

Aofil heaves a relieved sigh. It worked. They’re so glad it did. They take their own seat again. “How’re you feeling, Muffet?”

She glances over to Aofil, but she can only hold eye contact for a moment before she loses her compulsion, and hides her face behind her hands.

Just like that. Gone. No signs of her having any form of crisis. No convulsions about what is real, no nothing. Aofil drinks some water. How will they ever figure this out?

God damn, what a mess.

The drape embroiled with Mettaton’s face wearing a chef’s hat is dragged aside, and the waiter returns with a pristine bottle of wine along with two plates. One with Aofil’s appetizer, and the other with Muffet’s cheese. “Crystal Cave stored, as requested,” the waiter informs as he gently places the plate in front of Muffet.

She takes in the smell of the mineral shaped block of cheese scored to resemble a spider web. “Very good,” she compliments.

“And for the human, the garlic bread.”

It’s half a loaf with a line of unpeeled garlic cloves in it.

Aofil blinks, and an “OK?” slips out from their speech stolen tongue.

The sound of the cork from the bottle popping open distracts Aofil from their disappointment of an appetizer. With a twist and a flair, the waiter serves both Aofil and Muffet the supposed soul infused wine. Aofil gives their glass a swirl, and their nose a quick whiff of the wine.

Doesn’t smell like dead humans. Smells more like a nice blend between honey, fruit, and a hint of chocolate.

Aofil samples the wine, and concluded that it tastes the same as it smells. Hold on, there’s something else. Aofil sloshes the sample around in their mouth. Something else is there. Something… bitter.

A thick and unpleasantly warm feeling runs up their arm.

Aofil places the glass down quickly and pats themselves, but their pills are nowhere to be found.

Shit…

“How’s the wine?” the left head asks patiently. Their condescending stare is uncalled for though and… No, that’s Aofil’s curse talking, they gotta keep focus.

“It’s,” Aofil clears their throat as it thickens, “good. It’s fine.”

“Does it pair well with the cheese?” asks the left head to Muffet. It’s smile plastered like it’s suffering from lockjaw…

Dammit! Focus!

Muffet can’t answer, she’s too busy enjoying the combination. The waiter takes it as a yes, and bows. “It pleases us that you enjoy it.”

Double the mouths, double the ass kissing.

No! Focus! Keep it together!

“Would the human like to taste?” suggest the left head.

“No,” Aofil hawks away the growl present in their voice. “I’m good.”

“Human?” Muffet begs with eyes ever so pleading and soft. Just waiting to drag Aofil closer before she springs the trap and webs them up so that she can extort them by forcing Aofil her stupidly high prices. No doughnut is that good!

Aofil puts a hand up to their forehead. Not good.

With a last hit of a cymbal, the room goes quiet as the music stops. The chatter crawls to a halt, and hushes replace it for a short while before the room becomes completely silent. The lights dim, and the shadows and ripples from the aquarium become more potent around the room.

A spotlight flashes to life, and dances around the restaurant.

“Darlings, and more darlings,” Mettaton announces from the myriad of speakers sprinkled across the room. “Welcome to a most wonderful evening, an evening full of me, and my creations.”

The spotlight switches color to a screaming pink as it continues to flow around the walls and ceiling.

“As you all know,” Mettaton continues, “I work tirelessly to bring you all the most glamorous of products. Today is no different, but today also marks a new day for fashion. A new day for glamour. A new day, for me, to serve you, to come just a little bit closer to perfection. To come just a little bit closer...”

The spotlight stops, and in that moment, Aofil notices something out of the corner of their eye. A small flutter in the drape.

Aofil shakes their head. “No...”

The spotlight bursts to life, and with pinpoint accuracy, it throws itself towards a specific balcony.

Aofil puts up their other hand to shield their eyes from the bright light.

The drape is pulled aside, and Mettaton steps into the spotlight. The light reflects and scatters across the restaurant, awing the entire crowd. “To me!” he ends dramatically, and with an equally dramatic pose.

God. Fucking. Dammit.


	19. At least we strung the show

"Our first exhibition!"

Mettaton's extended arm reaches across Aofil's shoulders. The metal sections of his arm chaff against Aofil's exposed neck, like a cheese grater. He grabs Aofil’s furthest shoulder and gently tries to convince Aofil towards him. When Aofil stays put, Mettaton tries again, this time with a bit more convincing behind his tug.

Still with his winning smile he mouths a reminder to Aofil, “Contract!” while moving his microphone away from his own mouth. He tugs at Aofil’s shoulder a third time, but Aofil couldn’t care less.

A subtle but still noticeable twitch tilts Mettaton’s head. His smile changes ever so slightly, and he retracts his arm. “Our first wondrous model is this wonderful human,” he continues. As the camera tilts up Mettaton kicks away the chair from underneath Aofil. He catches them before they hit the ground, and pushes them up next to him where he locks them in place. His arm wraps around Aofil just out the view of the camera and the surrounding balconies.

Mettaton bends over and runs his free hand on Aofil’s shirt. “Made from the highest quality of human created fabric, and donned with yours truly most truly magnificent and glamorous visage. This garment screams Surface professional. A blend of human and monster. Fuse the two together this very week as it launches in all MTT branded fashion operations the country over, and under, for those of you darlings joining in from the Underground.”

Aofil’s getting really sick of the amount of times they’ve been wrapped up today. Can’t struggle out of this either, Mettaton only squeezes harder. If anything he’s holding back the pulses from their arm. Whatever slim positive that is.

“And complementing my generous share of the fabulous star power, that is me, is this year’s hottest trendsetter. From the mind of the greatest designer, voted all years by the MTT fashion conglomerate, me, comes the perfect piece to complete all you at home puzzling about what to wear.”

Mettaton releases Aofil ever so slightly, and an avalanche of sick rushes from their arm throughout their body. They grunt as it spreads, feeling light headed. Mettaton can’t have any of that though, so before Aofil manages to bend their stomach to contain their sick, he pushes his hand against their spine to straighten Aofil out.

Mettaton lifts up Aofil’s fur covered arm up to exhibit the leather sleeve. “This here, my lovelies, is what you’ve all been waiting for. A jacket for your arms! A glorious, and dare I say it, brilliant piece of craftsmanship to complete your puzzle of what to wear.”

Aofil feels the fur scrape against the leather. It’s coming off! They jerk their arm out of Mettaton’s hand. For a brief second Mettaton’s face slips, and he shoots a look towards Aofil. Aofil returns it, but before the camera can refocus, Mettaton spins Aofil around.

“All shirts and underpieces from this year’s collection are meticulously designed to accommodate for this new trend of jackets, my dear viewers. As you can see, you will never risk obscuring my beautiful visage. Non believers, and other lesser scum, have already dared question me about why I would ever release an autumn collection that doesn’t provide any heat management. I pity those, for they are weak of mind, they don’t understand the amount of effort and thought behind these clothes. You’ll never risk running cold.”

Mettaton throws Aofil back into their seat as he strikes a pose for the camera. “Because you’ll always be the hottest person around!”

The restaurant explodes in a roar of applause and cheering. It sounds suspiciously like it’s coming from the speakers littered all around the restaurant, but Aofil is too hunched over in pain to check.

“Moving on!” Mettaton cheers. “To all you lovelies that know that perfection is Mettaton, and that Mettaton’s dresses dresses just as a spider spins silk. And speaking of spiders, allow me to introduce my next exhibit!”

Muffet waves to the camera while Mettaton positions himself. He offers her a hand, and helps her up on her feet when she accepts it. She spins her around, her dress sparkling like stars on a cloudless night.

The entire room heaves a collective awe, and Aofil has to suppress the envious thought asking why they didn’t receive the same praise.

Mettaton sighs deeply. “My dear and wonderful, thanks to me,” Mettaton adds quickly without missing a beat. “Muffet, if it weren’t for me or the rest of my collection, you would be the brightest star present. How the silk flows over your body, how it’s pattern brings the eye to where it should be. A dress to impress, and impress you do.”

He drags Muffet close to him, holding her arms tightly against his chest. With his other hand he strokes her hair, causing interference through the microphone he’s holding. “And the crystal holding up the silkiness of your hair that almost rivals the quality of my design.”

Mettaton leans Muffet down into his arm, tilting the back of her head up to the camera. “Chosen by our well founded and educated MTT crystal experts, and hand picked from the deepest nooks of the Crystal Cave, MTT invites you to shine bright like a diamond, wherever you are. Crystals of all sizes and shapes will be available, but make your reservations quickly.”

Mettaton bows as the sound of applause again roars. He eases a giggling and blushing Muffet down into her chair, and kisses her hand.

Why is Aofil feeling envious? This isn’t normal, what’s happening with them?

Mettaton notices, and a faint smirk engages his lips. “So, my dear darlings,” he says while reaching for Aofil. Their sick is too much for them to fight back, and they hope Mettaton doesn’t squeeze too hard. He doesn’t, but he’s firm enough that Aofil has to follow his lead to Muffet.

“Human,” Mettaton presents to the camera, “and monster.” He picks Muffet up again. “Two worlds, joined together. First in society, and now, more importantly, through fashion, and even more importantly,” Mettaton brings the two together, forcing the one to embrace the other. Aofil barely manages to hold their sick back as they half crash into Muffet, “joined in fashion, by me. And now!”

None too subtly, Mettaton presses Aofil’s and Muffet’s heads together. “On with the show!”

Aofil’s lips are pressed against Muffet’s burning cheek. Good thing they didn’t hit her lips. Mettaton’s silent “Humpf!” tells a different story. He sneakily smacks the side of Aofil’s head so that their lips slants off Muffet’s cheek. He applauds, and the stage below explodes with confetti.

Mettaton poses for the camera, and Aofil takes the opportunity to stumble away while clutching their stomach and arm. They take support against the wall outside the balcony, and tries desperately to control their breathing. It was just a small sip of wine, it shouldn’t be this bad. Mettaton isn’t helping in any way, shape, or form. Is it him? Is it Muffet?

The drape behind them flutters, and Muffet peeks her head out worryingly. She grips and twists the velvet in her hand. “H-human?” she asks. Seeing Aofil hunched over, barely containing themselves. She looks down, and with another hand she strokes her cheek carefully.

Aofil struggles to turn around, but Muffet gives them a determined look before bolting back out to the balcony. What’s she doing?

The speakers go quiet after an inquisitive hum from Mettaton. A second or so after, the microphone hits the ground loudly, and the drapes come crashing down.

“Darling! Muffet, what are you doing?”

A varying number of limbs punch and fumble their way out of the wrapped up red fabric. Muffet finds her way out of the bundle first, and she drags out a wrapped up Mettaton out of it. With a stare she spins him around to face Aofil. “What did you do to them, M?”

Mettaton extends his neck so that the camera can’t spot Aofil. “Beside making them fantastic beyond their own imagination?”

Muffet’s eyes narrow, hard. She tucks at the string connecting to Mettaton with all her might. His body falls, but his head stays the same level. Although his head is smiling at the camera, his hands are waving around in anger to Muffet.

She points an angry finger, and pushes the rest of her knuckles steadily against her sides. Mettaton’s body turns around, and search for a chin that isn’t there. Instead he taps on his own shoulders.

“Now, allow me to list the very long collection that will unfortunately not join us this wonderful evening. Fear not though, my sweet babies and loves, they will still be available for purchase!”

Coming to no clear consensus with Mettaton’s body, Muffet wraps him up tighter, and drags him with stubborn steps. Mettaton swings his neck around so that the camera points the other way.

“What did he do, human?” Muffet asks, tugging against Mettaton’s futile attempts to flee. Mettaton pleads to Aofil, or at least, his hands does. His head is still busy listing his collection.

“I’m,” Aofil puts a hand up to their mouth, “He...”

But they can’t form a sentence, it’s too risky.

“Was it the food?” Muffet asks.

Aofil didn’t have any. They shake their head.

“Or was it...” Muffet’s grip loosens on Mettaton. With a couple of violent spins he breaks loose from the webbing and rushes back to his head to strike a pose. Muffet looks down on the torn up strings, and back up to Aofil. She touches her cheek again, “me?”

No it wasn’t! You stupid dense spider! Aofil clutches their head. Dammit! Another wave.

“Are you feeling this because of me?” Muffet asks quietly. Her eyes move down her dress. “I thought...”

“It’s,” Aofil forces out despite tethering on the edge of vomiting, “not you. I’m allergic to...”

But their sick is too strong for Aofil to hold in. They dive their head into a nearby pot plant. Muffet stares in fear as Aofil heaves heavily. Her eyes explode in rage after the second heave, and she rolls up the sleeves on her arms. “The wine! The humans!”

“And that concludes the letter ‘A’!” Mettaton proudly announces. “Now onto-”

Aofil hears the speaker above them muffle, and as they catch a break from their heaving, they turn their head towards the silent commotion.

They catch just the barest of a glimpse of Mettaton being hauled in a silky cocoon out of the balcony entrance. His feet jiggle around before he’s hauled up towards the restaurant ceiling. The collective gasp of confusion and fear fills Aofil’s ear, but another sound drowns it out immediately.

A laugh. A guffaw. A very familiar sound of spiteful giggling.

“You sparkle like a pompous chandelier! Is being wrapped up like a hunk of punk junk part of your collection?” shouts Undyne before descending into another fit of sharp chortles. Where is she? On the stage? How loud can she make herself?

The speaker muffles complaints and protests, but that only intensifies Undyne’s howls of insults and laughs.

Muffet descends from atop the balcony frame. Aofil can’t help but feel very uncomfortable seeing her crawl like an actual spider, but that could also be that another wave is on its way. She drops down and disengages the string attached to her and the frame. How she does it Aofil will never ask. Muffet lands on two feet, thankfully, and rushes over to Aofil. “Human?”

Aofil motions for her to back up a bit. “Don’t want to stain you or your dress,” they joke before going back to the pot.

Muffet hesitates to stop, and does so while rubbing her hands. “Can I help?”

“Water.”

She nods, and heads out to the balcony again. The speaker muffles something, but Muffet ignores it. She returns with Aofil’s glass and the can of water. “Here, human.”

Aofil drinks greedily. “More.”

Muffet fills it quickly, almost as if it's second nature to her.

Aofil can’t help but crack a smile. “Refiling sits in the wrist?”

Muffet nods with a giggle. “It’s my job.”

A couple more glasses later Aofil feels that they’ve soothed as much as they can. Drinking more would only make them uncomfortable from too much water sloshing around in their stomach. They request an arm from Muffet, and she hands one to help. Aofil’s feeling very light headed. “Can you help me find Alphys?”

Muffet helps Aofil up, still with the can in one of her hands. She’s got plenty of arms to spare, so why not keep it just in case? With Aofil leaning as little they can against her, the two of them make their way down the corridor.

“Do you know where she is?” Muffet asks. “Maybe backstage?”

“Yeah,” Aofil nods, “that’s my thinking. Don’t know how to get there though. What with Mettaton blindfolding us while taking us up here.”

The two sidestep a small crowd of monsters in a hurry with a large ladder running towards the busted balcony. The clipboard monster from before follows the crowd, still with its nose down deep into the board. “Hurry up! M needs to start the show! He’ll have our jobs if we don’t shut up Undyne as well!”

Aofil waves their hand in front of the clipboard. They don’t seem to catch the monster’s attention, so they carefully bend down the clipboard. They’re met with a burning glare that’s screams murder. “Yeah, hello, we need to get backstage.”

“And I need to do my job,” the monster hisses back before realizing who the ones that rudely interrupted him are. “You!” the monster points. “What you’ve done is a breach of contract! A formidable one as well!”

God dammit, of all monsters to run into. Aofil tries to figure out a way to convince the monster, but before they can begin to think, Muffet grabs the clipboard with a steadfast hand.

She throws it in the air and leaves it dangling on a string just out of the monster’s reach. “You either tell us where we can get backstage, or you call for the ladder to come back.”

The monster watches in fear as the crowd he commands sets up the ladder on the balcony. The speakers above muffles a cheer, and the restaurant begins to applaud. The applauds fade as the ladder begins to shake. Down it rushes a monster with a hardhat swaying back and forth as it sprints towards Muffet and Aofil. “What’s the code for the chandelier alarm, chief?”

The clipboard spins slowly above the two panicked monsters. “It’s on the clipboard...” whimpers the chief.

Another hard hat wearing monster comes rushing down the hall. “Chief! We need you! M is trying to say something!”

The chief clutches his head, “Argh! Use the elevator! Press and hold the basement floor for three seconds, and then release for two before pressing again!” and takes off towards the balcony.

Muffet summons a friendly smile, “Thank you,” and continues with Aofil down the corridor.

Aofil looks over their shoulder. “The clipboard?”

Muffet covers her mouth with a daintily hand. “Ahuhuhu. I’ve already breached my contract, so...”

Aofil joins in her chuckle. “They do have a ladder, right? Shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Fufufufu.”

The elevator open a second after Aofil summons it. Must’ve been waiting on their floor. They hold the basement button for three seconds, release it for two, and then hold it for three more. The doors close just as chief monster comes back to his still out of reach clipboard.

“Should give us some time too,” Aofil comments, “before Mettaton comes charging at us.”

Undyne’s laughter can even be heard inside the elevator. This must be one of her best days ever. Aofil is correct in their guess. A moment after she shouts just the same thing.

The elevator door opens to a group of perplexed monsters. The group scan the elevator, but there’s only Muffet and Aofil in it. “Where’s the chief?”

“Busy with M,” Aofil relays. “Sent us down to talk with Alphys.”

Technically they’re not lying.

The monsters look at each other.

“To get some spare parts,” Aofil adds.

That one was a lie though.

“Yeah, but,” says one in the group, and lifts a claw towards Muffet, “she was the one that strung him up.”

“All part of the show,” Muffet smiles. “I’m under contract, remember? Ahuhuhu.”

Aofil’s impressed by her ability to control a crowd. Daily practice with her spiders. Must be it.

“You want to defy M’s orders?” she continues while putting one hand on her hip.

A collective panic ensues, and the monsters scramble away busily. A single sentence to part a sea of monsters. Impressive.

Problem is, Aofil forgot to ask where Alphys is. Dang it.

“So, right or left?” Aofil asks, moving their head from one direction to the other.

Muffet twists her lips, “Hm...” and knocks carefully on the wall. A spider hauls itself down. She lets it land on her finger before putting it up to her mouth. She whispers something to it, moves it to Aofil, and then tosses it back up the wall. It disappears between some cracks. “Shouldn’t be long,” she assures.

A minute or so later a loud squeal comes from a far ways to the right.

“Right it is,” Aofil says, and heads down the direction of the squeal.

Muffet points to a door labeled ‘Maintenance’ with a very ornate and pink ‘M’, and finds Alphys picking up some pieces of a smashed gadget when Muffet opens it. Alphys drops the gadget again when she spots Aofil in the doorway, and it breaks further. “A-Aofil!”

They turn to Muffet with a nod. “Thanks for you help, Muffet. I’m sorry if the lunch didn’t turn out that well.”

Muffet clamps her hands together and sway them from side to side while scratching the back of her shin with her other foot. “I had fun, human. Ahuhuhu.”

Aofil’s stomach rumbles, loudly. “Too bad we didn’t get to eat.”

“There’s always doughnuts at my place,” Muffet suggest, kinda, maybe, not really, but still. Her cheeks blossom, but Aofil just chuckles.

“If I decide to move here, I’ll make sure to visit.”

Muffet leans up to Aofil, and they offer their cheek. After a small peck, Muffet hands Aofil the remaining water along with a glass. “Just in case,” She waves goodbye, and giggles down the hallway. “Fufufufufu.”

The small spider lands on her shoulder, and also waves to Aofil.

Aofil closes the door behind them. “Alphys, I need your help.”

She puts away the broken gadget, and cleans the oil off her hands on a nearby, well used, towel. “S-sure. I-if it’s not s-something big. I-I need to help Mettaton with t-this.”

Aofil motions for her to sit down. “It is a big one, I'm afraid.”

With a worried look, and even worried hands, she takes a seat. She swallows hard. “Y-yeah?”

“Remember when I had my, well, fusion, with Asriel?”

Whether Alphys nodded, or if she’s shaking out of fear, Aofil can’t tell, but they continue regardless. “You see, I don’t think we split completely. Or at least, that’s how I see it.”

They struggle their arm out of their leather jacket, and show their arm to Alphys.

She freezes, her color drains completely, almost matching the glistening white of the fur on Aofil’s arm. Her hands searches desperately for her tail. She grips it like a ferrule, and drags it up to her head. “W-w-what i-is that?”

“The thing I need your help with.”


	20. Wincing to convincing

Three heavy knocks forces Aofil to cover up their sleeve. The knocker doesn’t wait for an invitation though, and barges in.

Pointing with the clipboard, “You!” the chief monster motions for Aofil and Alphys towards him. “Out!” With great prejudice. “Now!”

Behind the monster Aofil hears loud laughing. Carried just behind the clipboard chief by a hobbling Mettaton is Undyne, hunched over in his arm, and unable to move due to her chuckling and guffawing.

The clipboard monster’s eyes scream bloody murder, and Aofil’s not feeling like they want to challenge those. They help Alphys pack her tools, and then they follow the twitching monster through the hallway. Mettaton opens an exit, and throws Undyne out of it.

She lands with a roll, and bounces up on her feet as she's thrown out of the backstage exit. Still giggling, she catches Aofil in one arm, and Alphys in the other. The clipboard monster huffs angrily at them as Mettaton moves to block the door frame. “You can return to your other duties, love,” Mettaton informs. “I need to speak with these,” he pauses to reattach his chin, “ruffians.”

The clipboard monster bows, and heads back into the hallway. Mettaton closes the door behind him, and takes position overlooking Undyne and her baggage of friends. While plucking some strewn about strings from around him, he waves an eccentric finger. “Never in my life have I seen such blatant disregard, dears! Nothing I planned came to life!”

Undyne puts down her friends, and steps up the stairs leading to Mettaton. She rolls her shoulder. “And you know what?” she smiles. Her hand dives into her pocket, and she pulls out a small card. “We should earn two stamps for that!”

Aofil cocks their perplexed head. Stamps? The hell?

Mettaton shakes his head. “Absolutely not! One stamp per event, that’s the rules. I have to give Aofil a card now as well, so that will be your second stamp.”

His wrist opens up and Undyne hands her card to him. With a mechanic thunk the card is stamped. Undyne turns around and stretches out her arm to Alphys. “Give me yours.”

Alphys has one as well? Aofil is confused as all hell. Wasn’t Undyne just fighting Mettaton off as he tried to escort her out of the building? Her clothes are all torn up from the battle. Mettaton is missing one leg as well. His wheel is taking its place, and he’s looking rather pissed about it. Would’ve certainly been a good show, Aofil can imagine. But what’s happening right now?

“Until next time,” Undyne smiles towards Mettaton. “You deranged radiator,” she adds under her breath as she makes her way down the stairs on her own volition.

“I still heard that, Undy,” Mettaton let’s her know.

“Enough for another stamp?” she replies while flashing the three cards in her hand.

Mettaton either scoffs, or some gizmo inside him blows off steam. Same effect, either way. He closes the door after a wave goodbye to Alphys and Aofil.

Undyne hands Aofil their card, apparently. “Here you go!”

“What’s?” Aofil rotates the card around in their hand. “What’s this?”

The card is black with red stripes. Mettaton’s face is on the back of it, obviously. The front side is donned with ten boxes, with one stamped with a crossed circle. Same red as the lines on the back of the card. The tenth boxed has the words ‘Free Meal’ written across it.

“Two more, Alphys!” Undyne pats Alphys on the back before pocketing her card. “Then I’ll finally get to taste that garlic bread he’s so proud of!”

She doesn’t notice that Aofil’s not following her, and it takes Alphys to point it out after a couple of steps.

“Aof! Come on! We still haven’t had lunch on your expense! But I guess that getting a stamp counts as one. Ngah! I’ll whip something up when we get back home to us!”

What the hell is this card?

Alphys taps on Undyne’s shoulder again as Undyne swings back around and starts marching away. “A-Aofil’s still not moving.”

“Hey!” Undyne yells. “It’s a card! You humans have plenty!”

‘Free meal’? Why a free meal?

Undyne lets her arms flop down dramatically. She exhales an equally dramatic sigh, and throws a spear that lands right in front of Aofil’s feet. They recoil back from the impact, and Undyne snaps her fingers. “Aofil?”

They show their card to her. “What is this?”

“Ten bans from Mettaton, and you get a free meal. That’s how he always fills his restaurant with patrons. They're always promised an exciting show.” Undyne explains with a twirl of her hand. “He calls it ‘unorthodox entertainment’, but I call it being a real Jerry about hiring proper entertainment.”

“So,” Aofil furrows their brow at the card, “it was all for a show?”

“Yeah!” Undyne flashes a bright smiles and stretches her back. “I get to trash that trashcan, and he rewards me for it! So I’m not complaining. Ngah! He asked me to try and be more creative next time,” Undyne summons a spear in one hand, brings it up to her other hand, and splits the spear in two. “And oh boy is he gonna regret that!”

Alphys takes a step back from Undyne’s mock battle she has with something next to her. “S-sorry for not telling you, A-Aofil. It’s al-lways hard to tell with Mettat-ton what he wants. H-he’s stingy with t-these c-cards, so I didn’t t-think he’d inc-clude you.”

“Just a show?” Aofil repeats while turning the card over. Mettaton’s face is smiling. “And we were all in on it?”

Alphys nods.

“Even Muffet?”

“Ha!” Undyne scoffs loudly. “That arachnid probably has a consultant contract with Mettaton about this.” She lets her spears fade away. “Mettaton has her on speed dial, I’m sure of it.”

The card suddenly becomes a lot heavier in Aofil’s hand. “He has?”

Undyne’s smile turns into an annoyed frown, and she crosses her arms over her chest. “And I betcha that she gets two stamps for her involvement.”

Aofil’s cheeks runs colder, especially the one Muffet chose. Their arm is soothing as well. Coincidence? Aofil doesn’t really want to answer that. They pocket the card and sigh silently. “We’re gonna walk back?”

“I’m gonna take a look around the corner and see if I can spot that spiky pipsqueak and convince him to give us a ride. We didn’t even get to open that champagne!”

Aofil’s not so sure. “You think he’d help us?”

“He’s a big fan of me,” Undyne brags with a flash and a heroic pose. “I’ll give him an autograph and a picture of me as payment!”

“Papyrus?”

Undyne’s smile fades. “No, I’m not bragging like he does, Aofil.”

“Not what I meant. Why don’t you call Papyrus? He’s still acting chauffeur, right? For Asgore and Toriel?”

“Yes, but he doesn’t have any champagne in his car,” Undyne reminds.

“Fine then.” Undyne has a good point. “See if you can find MK then, Undyne.” It might also give Aofil a bit more time with Alphys.

“Wait here!” Undyne says before taking off, leaving Aofil and Alphys alone.

Aofil checks that the coast is clear. They spot a camera, and position themselves so that’s it’s not obvious to it what they’re doing. They roll up their arm again for Alphys. “Anything you can tell by looking?” they ask her.

“C-can I touch it?”

Aofil allows her, and Alphys carefully put her hand on the white fur. Her claw tickles, and Aofil’s arm twitches out of reflex. They assure her that it didn’t hurt. Twice they have to before Alphys examines it further.

“It’s soft,” she notices with furrowed brows. “Almost like...”

“Yes, it’s the same fur Asriel and his parents have.”

“I see.” She doesn’t find anything else, and she returns Aofil’s arm to them. “And you said you suspect that it has something to do with you and Asriel fusing?”

“I do.”

It’s surprisingly easy for Aofil to say that. Perhaps because this time they have a chance of fixing it.

“That would explain why your fur is the same as his. Somehow the piece of Asriel’s soul inside yours have an influence on your body. For monsters that wouldn’t be strange, since we’re made out of our soul, so to speak.” Alphys scratches the top of her head, “But a human? Your souls work in symbiosis, one supplying the other. Your form isn’t influenced by it. Unless...”

“My soul is broken, remember?”

Alphys nods. “So it’s not so much a fusion as Asriel's soul filling the cracks,” she ponders out loud. “I can see that being the case. I’ve never heard of it happening before though, so I can’t really say more without further testing.” She hangs on the last word with an increasing deepness to her eyes. She shakes it away. “Any symptoms?”

Aofil makes double sure that they’re out of reach from the camera. “Under the presence of magic I feel, well, determined. And not in the good way.”

Alphys’ eyes widen, and again they grow deep and distant. “I… It’s b-been a long t-time since I h-heard that w-word.” Her hands ball together, “A l-long t-time. I t-thought it was l-left behind in the Und-derground.,” and her tail curls around her. “T-that it was n-no long-ger r-el-levant.”

“I’m sorry that I have to remind you of it, but I need your help. You’ve researched determination, Alphys. If there’s anyone to figure this out, it’s you.”

Alphys shakes her head. “No.”

“Alphys...” Aofil pleads.

“No!” She steps back from Aofil. “I-I r-refuse. N-not again! N-never! It’s all in t-the past! N-new chapter! It’s all g-gone. I delet-ted it! Purged it all.”

Aofil opens their mouth, but Alphys turns away from them with her head and back hunched over with her hands over her face. “N-never again!” she sobs. “I-I can’t. I w-won’t!” she whimpers. “I p-promised myself!”

Aofil puts their hand on Alphys’ shoulder, but she moves away from it, “I’m s-sorry,” and shakes her heavy head. “I c-can’t.”

No, Aofil’s come too far. This is their only chance, they’re not gonna let it slip away. Hopefully they can keep the damage to a minimum, but they have to force Alphys if she doesn’t want to. “You’re the only one that can help me, Alphys,” Aofil repeats with the least amount of hostility in their voice as possible.

She lowers her head in response.

“I’ve tried to take medicine. Human medicine,” Aofil continues while trying to move around her to face her, but she squirms away. “It hasn’t worked. I’m constantly afraid that I’ll snap. I can’t be near magic, and magic is spreading like a wildfire around me. More monsters on the Surface, and integrating more and more into society. I know that it’s wonderful, but not for me! I want to be happy that it’s happening, but I physically can’t. Not with this on my arm.”

Finally they grab hold of her shoulders, and force her still. Aofil forces contact with Alphys’ eyes. She’s doesn’t want to, but that’s not enough for Aofil to back down. “It’s just a matter of time before it becomes too much for me to handle. I can control my curse without this catalyst, but with this patch on me it keeps bringing me closer and closer to the line. Eventually I’ll cross it, so I’m gonna ask you again.”

Alphys averts her eyes again. “Please, I beg you,” Aofil pleads.

Alphys lets go of her tail. Reluctantly she reaches for it again, but she halts herself. She suppresses a tear and a sob with a visible swallow. Afterwards she sighs a shaky exhale.

“Curs-se?” she asks, her breathing slowing down for a moment as she waits for the answer. “You said s-something about a curse.”

“I think,” Aofil meets her eyes again, this time theirs are solid as a brick, “you know which one.”

“Do I?” Alphys snaps her head up towards Aofil. Her eyes dart all over them, and her lips starts shaking in fear. “No...” she takes a step back. “No...”

Aofil let’s her go, “I don’t want to succumb to it, Alphys,” and places their hand over the fur. It’s so soft, so gentle, but it’s none of those feelings. “I want to come back, but I can’t if I’m a danger to you all.”

“I c-can’t...”

“I’m afraid I have to insist, Alphys. I’ve tried to live with it, but I can’t. I don’t want to have these thoughts in my head. Sometimes I can’t even distinguish them from my own, because they are my own. You are the only option I want to pursue, so I have to ask you again.”

Alphys looks up slowly as Aofil tilts their head down to her. “I need your help, Alphys. With my entire heart, my entire soul. Please,” Aofil dries away a tear forming in their eye, “help me. All I ask is that you try. I can’t stay with any of you the way it is now. Give it enough time and I’ll not be able to stay anywhere. I want to ask you as a friend, but a friend wouldn’t put you in this situation. I know that, and still I ask this of you, Alphys. That is how serious this is.”

Alphys grabs her tail as she dives into her thoughts. She squeezes the increasingly red tail, lets it go, and squeezes it again while mumbling to herself. Aofil can’t make it out the exact words, but she’s debating with herself. Reasons for and against trickle out of her incoherently, but Aofil can’t tell which side has the upper hand.

With a weary mumble Alphys meets Aofil’s eyes. “H-how can I if your human doctors can’t?”

“I don’t know. Human medicine didn’t work, so now my last option is monster medicine.”

“W-we don’t have anything f-for this, t-this has never happened.”

Aofil nods sympathetically, but they’re still determined to convince Alphys. “Which is why I asked the only monster I know that’s an expert in determination.”

“N-not a w-willing one...”

“Please...”

“I-Is this the one t-thing stopping you from moving back?” Alphys asks. “I know t-that we all w-want you b-back.”

“Do you want me back as well?”

Alphys smiles. “I-I k-know that we might not have had s-so much time together, b-but it feels like we’ve d-done so much, you and me.”

Aofil begs that her memory doesn’t overwhelm her like it did Muffet. They need to use it though, it’s their only hope of convincing her.

“It’s a thing stopping me, not the one thing, but it would help me immensely. I don’t want to force you, Alphys, but who else can I ask?”

Alphys moves her eyes to the patch of fur, and back up to Aofil’s pleading eyes. She grabs her tail, and twists it. “H-how long? Y-your curse, if t-that’s w-what we’re g-gonna call it.”

“My curse?”

Alphys nods again very faintly. “S-so that I h-have somew-where to start. We’ll d-do some t-test when we get h-home, b-but if I h-have s-some grasp on w-what the curse is I c-can be more efficient w-with the f-first test.”

Aofil kneels down, and embraces Alphys. “Thank you,” they say, their voice struggling to escape their choked up throat.

“I-It’s alr-right, Aofil,” Alphys comforts very clumsily with a series of reserved pats on Aofil’s back. Despite it, Aofil feels what she so awkwardly wants to say.

Aofil quells a relieved chuckle. “W-what did you mean by first test?”

“It’s gonna t-take more than one, I’m afraid-d.”

“How many?”

“I c-can’t tell. Sorry...”

“Compared to what I’ve been through,” Aofil releases Alphys and she gives Aofil an uncomfortable smile as thanks, “I think that I’ll manage.”

Aofil steadies their breathing, and calmly exhales. “I’ve had my curse since I was born. Together with my-” Aofil halts their tongue. Alphys might figure it out though, but hopefully she doesn’t.

“P-parents?” Alphys guesses. “Did they have the curse as well?”

“Not that I know of. I know that dad knew magic though. He got it from the Barrier or something.”

Alphys forms a fist under her chin. “And he didn’t show any magical abilities before?”

“As far as I know, no.”

Alphys’ brow furrows in thought, and she picks up a notebook from her coat pocket. “Latent magical expression.” She removes the pen stuck to it and scribbles something down. “Or perhaps,” she taps the pen on her forehead, “soul trait activated by magic seeping from the Barrier. The Barrier itself maybe? It was made by human mages, so perhaps it responded to human mages? Empowering them? No, that wouldn’t make sense. If anything it would empower the mages once broken, to contain us again. You have any other family that could do magic, Aofil?”

“Umm,” Aofil searches their mind for anything that might be applicable, “Granddad pulled coins from behind my ear?”

Alphys’ eyes shoot wide open, and she starts writing like crazy.

“But that’s just a trick!” Aofil halts her. “Like me pulling my thumb off.”

“Oh,” she remembers, hopefully it’s a benign memory. “I see. So, no other magic?”

Aofil shakes their head, and Alphys erases a page or two of text. She furrows her brow harder on the notes remaining. “Maybe it’s recessive? Dominant would have surfaced more cases. We would’ve seen at least one during our time up here.”

“What?”

“The curse, maybe it’s a recessive trait. It would explain why there aren’t so many around. Just you, and maybe-” Alphys halts her tongue. Aofil might figure it out though, but hopefully they don’t.

Aofil nods rhythmical as to make sure that Alphys doesn’t know that they know about Chara. They don't know how much the Dreemurrs have told her, and asking is not a good idea right now. “Yeah, perhaps.”

“Y-yeah, t-that’s my thinking. Has there been any other ways magic influenced you before you knew you had a curse?”

“There was some involved when my soul broke, but I don’t really want to talk about it. It’s not relevant.”

“A-are you sure? Anything m-might be a lead.”

“I’m sure,” Aofil states very clearly and sternly. “Absolutely sure. The only thing I can think is slightly relevant is that dad healed what was left of my soul, and how much of a toll it took on him.”

“T-that s-sounds relevant t-to me.”

“Yeah, I know,” Aofil realizes with a hand on their forehead. “Just, trust me, please. I know I’ve already asked way too much of you...”

“I-it’s f-fine. It m-might requir-re more t-tests though.”

“Fair enough.”

Alphys reads back through her notes, “I-I think this might be enough to get me started.” and pockets the pen and paper. “I s-still have to take some s-samples.”

“Is it gonna hurt?”

A dark shadow emerges on Alphys’ eyes, and they grow distant and deep. “The ones I did before didn’t feel pain… The ones that did at the beginning...”

“Sorry,” Aofil says, hoping that it’s enough to not have her slip back into her own memories. “I’ll keep my questions to a minimum.”

“T-thanks.”

The shadows disappears as the sounds of screeching wheels fly around the corner. Aofil moves themselves and Alphys out of the way, just in case, and the long limousine halts in front of them. The back door is kicked open, and Undyne leans out.

“’Sup, nerds! I got the champagne! Betcha it’s gonna taste wonderful since we’re stealing it from Mettaton too!”

Aofil watches her blow the cork off towards the camera. It hits the lens directly, but bounces gently off the glass. Undyne throws a small spear through it for good measures, and waves Aofil and Alphys inside with the bottle.

“Who wants some?”


	21. Sins crawling back

"Oh, so that's how you drive the car. Wow, I hadn't even thought about that! Color me surprised. Here I though you…"

MK leans in with his ear. “Yeah?”

“Nevermind.”

MK smiles widely at Aofil's impressed expression. He shows it off again, and Aofil nods approvingly with an extended thumb. “Neat.”

"Yooo! It took me a while," MK admits, "but once I figured it out I breezed through the tests. I'm just as good as anyone with hands, if not better," he lets himself brag. "It's why M hired me."

"The guests are too busy thinking about your driving that they spend less time contemplating the contract he gives them?" Aofil guesses cheekily, and judging by MK’s sudden cough, they’re pretty spot on with it.

MK clenches his teeth and breathes through them. "I can't really," he meets Aofil's raised eyebrow, "confirm that, you know?” MK points his tail up to the roof. “M is kinda listening and stuff."

“Really?” Aofil leans through the open car window. "Mettaton," they address the ceiling, "if you could be a dear and return my clothes to Alphys and Undyne's house that would be fantastic. Empty my pockets please before you wash them, too. Put them back afterwards!" Aofil adds, well aware what would happen if they didn’t. “Please, and thank you.”

The tail moves from the roof towards Aofil's chest. "I was gonna ask about that. These aren’t the clothes you had when I dropped you off. Wait..." MK's eyes light up underneath his cap. "Yooo! You were part of the fashion show? Wow! So cool! With Undyne as well?"

“Maybe?” Now it's Aofil's turn to clench their own teeth. "It's convoluted, you know? Mettaton and his plans. I don’t really know what I did, or was supposed to do.”

“You tell me!” MK chuckles. “Still, yooo, though. The human teacher and Undyne at the fashion show! Wait until Snow and Vul hears about it! Asriel and Frisk are gonna be jealous as well, I bet! Have you seen them yet, by the way?”

“Yeah,” Aofil nods solemnly, averting their eyes for just a moment, “yeah, I have. They live just up the street, I stayed with them during the night. Had an interview with Toriel yesterday, and...”

Aofil’s interrupted by the loudly leaking glee from MK. His lips and cheeks almost explode as he’s doing his best, yet still failing, to contain his smile. Aofil leans back as to not be immediately deaf from the cloud of joy MK’s about to produce.

“Yoooo!” the limousine honks as MK’s tail whips onto the steering wheel. Further up the gravel path, Undyne and Alphys jump from the sudden sound. A spear flies with enough distance over the car to not put it or the people near it in danger, but close enough to take out the startled anger.

“So you are moving back!” bursts out of MK. He shoots his head out the car window, and almost hits Aofil square on the jaw. They manage to dodge the yellow and spiky head, but not with a lot to spare. “Awesome!”

“I’m,” Aofil stops as they’re washed over by the feeling that they’re letting down MK. It’s worse if they were to lie though, “not sure, MK.”

His smiles dies off in an instant, and the shine in his eyes flee equally as quick. He looks down for a moment, but then returns up to Aofil. “Yoo, that’s fine,” Aofil can tell that’s he’s clearly lying, “but you’ll think about it, right?”

“Yeah, I will. Like I said.”

“I know...” spills out of MK.

“But I promise I’ll give it a proper thinking over, MK.”

MK leans his ear to his shoulder. “Sorry, gotta go. M needs me.”

Aofil taps the roof of the car. “See you later, MK.”

“You too!”

The limousine takes off screeching and flies around the corner with an unsafe amount of speed. Considering MK’s driving technique though, Aofil’s actually not worried. They don’t usually give it much thought, but monster magic is really something else.

“I’ll start the lunch then,” Undyne yells from inside the kitchen as Aofil enters the front door. They hear her summon a spear. The tortured sound of a metal can being opened in every wrong way possible along with her pleased giggle worries Aofil a bit. She seems to enjoy it a bit too much.

“Spill your beans for me!”

Definitely too much.

A long spear stretches across the kitchen and punctures a can of crushed tomatoes. “Fruits to the slaughter!” It's hauled back leaking red juice all over the floor.

Definitely way too much.

Undyne leans into the door frame with a myriad of different stains on both her Mettaton branded apron and her face. “Aofil! You’re still allergic to magic and stuff?”

Aofil looks to Alphys with panicked filled eyes, and then back to Undyne.

“Just so that I know what ingredients to use,” she explains with a twirl of her wooden ladle. A piece of tomato flies of it and lands on the top of the frame. She scrapes it off with a small spear and throws it back onto the counter. “Don’t want you going into shock like that Tem did.”

“T-the one that jumped into the arms of the h-human delegation?” Alphys asks while offering to take Aofil’s shoes.

“Yeah! Was almost as big as Onionsan when I finally managed to catch its face!” Undyne drags out her cheeks to mimic. “But anyway,” she says, still with her chins stretched wide, “Aofil, your allergy?”

“Oh,” trips out of Aofil’s relieved tongue. “Yes,” they nod, “still allergic.”

Undyne flashes a smile, “Gotcha!” and returns to borderline swearing at the food she’s preparing. “Who’s ready for some mighty fine salmon?”

Aofil looks down to Alphys for confirmation that she heard the same thing. She seems a bit uneasy from the look. “It’s v-very good, I promise. I’ve t-tripled insulated the kitchen, so you don’t have to worry about the house burning up again.”

“Was not what I was thinking about,” Aofil informs.

“Oh,” Alphys removes her hand from her mouth, “then what?”

Aofil nods towards the loud kitchen. “Her cooking fish.”

Alphys doesn’t seem understand to the problem, that it really is a problem, “W-what do you m-mean, Aofil?” and that’s really enough of an answer for Aofil. If neither Alphys or Undyne finds a problem with it, why would Aofil?

“Nothing,” they dismiss with a wave of their hand. “Just thinking out loud.”

With a reserved hand Alphys motions towards a door further down the hallway, right next to the kitchen. She stares at it for a second or two. “S-shall we?” she asks quietly, as if it was the last thing she wanted to do.

Aofil forms a fist with their hand. The tendons in their arm push up against the fur. They’re used to it by now, but it’s gonna be relieving to not feel it. They nod with a serious hum. “Let’s go.”

Alphys holds the door open for Aofil. Before Aofil can enter, Undyne returns her head and ladle into view through the door frame. “While you’re down there, Alphee,” Undyne asks while reaching for something, “could you repair this?” She brings a broken whisk into view while gently waving it. Luckily she cleaned it, so no more excessive staining happens.

Alphys grabs the whip. “Sure,” she smiles. “I was just s-showing Aofil around the house, but i-it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Around the house?” Undyne’s smile turns sinister. “Oh really?”

Aofil knows that smile well and good, and they decide to speak up before the idea takes root too much in her head. “Can’t really work out in these clothes, Undyne.”

“Oh I have plenty of spare clothing that you can use, whelp!” Undyne spins the ladle in between her fingers. “The salmon needs to be alone in the oven for a while, so we got some time together, human. If earlier today was proof of your strength, then we got a long way to go.”

“We’ll see,” answers Aofil, “depends.”

“Ngah! This is gonna be awesome!”

Undyne returns once again to her cooking, her suppressed giggling slowly turning into full on cackling. Alphys and Aofil can still hear her well after they close the basement door.

The basement is filled with gadgets and small robots strewn out over the floor. The walls are covered half with blueprints and scribbles, and half with anime posters. Probably for inspiration, considering how the robots look.

Alphys invites Aofil to a chair. “I’ll j-just get the instruments needed.”

Aofil rolls up their arm, exposing the reason they’ve been feeling horrible all these years. “Thank you again, Alphys.” With a small smile they brush off some fabric stuck on the fur. “You’ve no idea how much this means for me.”

Alphys moves around a couple of vials and bottles on a shelf. “Y-yeah,” she replies as she finds a vial small enough. She sighs heavily. “I can imagine.”

Her tone is rather distant.

She places the vials in a small machine to test if they fit. Satisfied that they do, she puts them in a stand and brings it to the table next to Aofil. She glances to the end of the basement, to a dusty cabinet. She whispers to herself to get a grip about it. She’s doing it for a friend. This time it’s different, this time she’s doing it for good.

She sighs again, and heads over to it with heavy steps. Her tail makes a thick line in the dust leading up to the cabinet.

After fidgeting with the lock, and freezing as it clicks open, Alphys puts her hand on the handle. Her hand rests on it, unwilling to pull the cabinet open. A couple of mumbled word reaches Aofil’s ears, but they’re too weak for them to make out what she says. Alphys releases the handle and looks at her hand. After a moment she nods to herself, and wipes the dust off her hand on a nearby towel. She moves some robots around in a nearby pile until she finds one with a feather duster. They keyboard on it lights up as she presses a combination, and it jumps out of her hand shortly after spinning up.

A furious couple of seconds later the cabinet is left clean as new. Not a single speck of dust on it. The robot returns to Alphys, and she presses another combination on its keyboard. After deactivating the robot Alphys turns to Aofil. “S-so I d-don’t cont-taminate the n-need-dles-s,” she chuckles uncomfortably. “S-since y-you h-humans ar-re vuln-nerable to b-bacteria.”

Aofil let’s her have the excuse. It’s not normal for her to stammer quite like this.

A visible swallow runs down her throat. “It’s-s c-clean now, s-so I’l-ll g-go get them n-now.”

“Alphys,” Aofil stops her. They flex their fist again. “Sorry for forcing you through this.”

Alphys nods absently. “It’s-s f-fine. Don’t-t w-worry, Aof-fil.”

Aofil can tell that she’s clearly lying.

Alphys takes some reassuring breathes as her hand weighs down on the handle. She opens it slowly, but it’s not enough. Her exhales turn into gasps of dread, and her inhales turn into gulps of fear. The entire cabinet shakes with her, and a small glass container falls off a shelf and crashes next to her foot.

“I’m sor-r-rry,” she whispers. “I’m s-so sor-r-y. I don’t deser-rve being alive!”

She slams the cabinet door close, and stumbles backwards while clutching her head. She reaches her free arm for any form of support, but she doesn’t find any. Without anything for her to lean on, Alphys falls over backwards with her glazed eyes glued to the cabinet.

Aofil manages to get their arms underneath her shoulders at the last second. “I gotcha,” they whispers carefully as they almost throw their back out from catching her. “I gotcha,” they repeat to make sure she knows she’s safe. Her shaking eyes indicate the opposite, the furthest opposite. Her quivering lips struggle to form syllables. All that escapes her are suppressed whimpers and quiet apologies.

Aofil eases her down on the floor, and leans her up against a cupboard with the least amount of stuff on its counter just in case she flinches. They try to catch her eyes, but she looks straight through them.

“Y-you should’ve l-let me f-fall, Undyn-ne.”

Aofil snaps their fingers right next to Alphys’ eyes. She flinches, as Aofil predicted, and the back of her head knocks over a clock on the table. The clock pushes itself back up with an extending rod, and returns to its ticking.

“It’s me,” Aofil says, “Aofil.”

Alphys blinks, and her breathing returns. She stares at Aofil dazed until she recognizes them. She nods hesitantly. “It-t’s y-you, Aofil.”

“Do you need me to get you some water, Alphys?”

Alphys rearranges her glasses on her nose with a very unstable hand. “N-no, It-t’s f-fine.”

Aofil doesn’t accept that. “It’s not fine, Alphys. Not with you looking like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Seen M-Mettaton?” she asks perplexed. “W-why?”

That did her no good. Aofil curses themselves.

“Human expression, don’t worry about it,” they say with a warm smile, something Alphys definitely needs right now. “Sit down here for a while. I’ll get you some water.”

Aofil’s not sure if they should really leave her alone like this. Looking around the basement there is a lot of things she could use to… No! Get that thought out!

A claw almost punctures Aofil’s skin through their shirt and jacket as Alphys grips Aofil in a panic. “D-don’t t-tell Und-dyne! Please!”

Aofil grabs Alphys’ arm in reflex. She lets go as quickly as she grabbed on, and looks at her hand. “N-no,” she cries. “No. I p-promised h-her I w-would be st-trong. I p-promised Undyne. I promised her...”

Alphys voice trails off, and Aofil finds themselves having to carry her arm for her. They gently place it on her sobbing chest, and she nestles it under her chin.

“I-I’m n-not st-trong. I d-don’t des-serve t-this. I d-don’t deser-v-ve being here! Not after all I did.”

She curls up into a pathetic yellow ball of tears and violent sobs. Her entire being rocks with every gasp for air, shaking the wall long cupboard to its foundation. Aofil is concerned that Undyne might notice from upstairs. They spend a good long while with their hand on her shoulder, comforting her as best as they can. Aofil doesn’t say anything though, because they don’t know what to say.

“I k-knew this would happen,” Alphys finally speaks. Her voice is exhausted and strained. “I k-knew I would rem-member! I kn-new I w-would n-never be free of-f the s-sins I did. All t-the amalg-gamates I made. The h-humans I ext-tracted!”

She burrows her head into her tail and hands. “And now I-I’m doing it ag-gain! T-to a f-friend!”

“It’s not the same though, Alphys. You’re doing this to help me.”

“I w-was doing it-t f-for the f-future of-f the m-monsters before, b-but l-look what I c-created. W-what if I d-do somet-thing w-worse t-to you? I shoul-ld’ve never have s-said y-yes to this. I c-can’t do t-this, Aof-fil. I’m s-sorry.”

“You promised me you’d help me.”

“I p-promised Und-dyne I’d b-be stron-ng too.”

No! No no no no no! They’re too close! Aofil’s too close!

“I’ll die without this, Alphys!” Aofil roars. They expect Undyne to come rushing down any moment now, but it’s the only way. They have to snap Alphys out of this! “I’ll go mad! I’ll lose myself to this! You have to help me!”

“A-Aofil...”

They grab both of Alphys’ shoulders. “This is the only chance I have to live a normal life. To forget everything that happened. To finally leave this all behind me!”

Alphys’ eyes meet Aofil’s. Hard, sad, confused, anger, soft, dread. Hers is going through them all. She doesn’t blink despite her eyes being filled to the brink with tears. Her quivering mouth calms down, and it slowly, but steadily, turns into a frown.

She lifts a shaking and angry finger, “Y-y-you!” and grabs Aofil’s arm. “G-get of-f-f me!”

Aofil retracts their arms. What is going on?

On wobbly knees Alphys forces her self up. Her breathing turns into huffs through her nose. She casts a glance towards the cabinet, and her frown grows deeper. “Y-you!” she repeats with a deep snarl. “Y-you n-nev-ver even c-cons-sidered-d m-moving b-back!”

The question takes the air right out of Aofil.

Alphys teeth clap together despite her gritting them as hard as she can. “Y-you h-hate us-s, b-but y-you w-want to use us-s to f-fix y-your ar-rm, and t-then,” she struggles for air, “and then you’re just gonna abandon us again!”

“N-no,” stammers Aofil. They’ve never seen Alphys this angry before. Her unstable posture and difficulty catching air shows that she’s never been like this either.

“Y-yes!” Alphys stammers back. If it is to mock or not, Aofil can’t tell. “You d-don’t want-t to b-be rem-minded ab-bout t-the respons-sibility of y-your actions! You c-could’ve t-told me about-t t-this bef-fore you l-left us! You d-din’t t-trust us-s, so y-you did-dn’t s-say anyt-thing! Y-you’re t-the r-reason y-you’re feel-ling t-this w-way! You’re t-the reason y-you’re allerg-gic. N-not your a-arm!”

The color drains from Alphys as she forgets to breathe. She takes support against the cupboard while clutching her head and gasping for air. Aofil moves closer to help her, but she swats their fur covered arm away. “Al-ll y-your arm-m is doing i-is r-reminding y-you of us! Al-ll it does is r-remind y-you t-that y-you aband-doned us. T-that y-you w-wanted t-to believ-ve t-that y-your connec-ction w-with us w-was a lie! You l-lie to yours-self s-so that-t you d-don’t h-have to c-come to f-face w-what you d-did t-to y-yours-self, Aof-fil! Y-your arm-m isn’t a c-curse, it’s a b-blessin-ng. T-the problem is t-that you d-don’t w-want it to be a blessing! B-because that m-means t-that you c-can’t l-lie to y-yourself anymore!”

She loses her grip on the cupboard and falls over. Aofil sees her fall, but they can’t move a muscle. They stand still, seeing her barely catch herself on the cement floor. She breathes greedily, coughing away sawdust and metal carvings with every inhale.

What did Aofil do if they’re the cause for this act of hers? Can they even understand it?

After a long while of nothing but Alphys catching herself she finally musters enough strength to attempt to stand up. Aofil offers their help, and she accepts it.

“I’d like some water, Aof-fil,” she asks while readjusting her glasses. “I’ll b-be read-dy to take s-some samples once y-you g-get back.”

“Alphys...”

“Just. Don’t,” she begs. “Only the water.”

Aofil nods, and Alphys does in return.

“G-good,” she whispers, “g-good,” and releases Aofil’s shoulder to stand on her own.

She halts Aofil once they take their first step, “A-actually.” She turns her head from the cabinet door. “S-see if-f y-you can as-sk Undyne t-to show y-you where my s-snacks are. I c-could us-se them to t-test y-your all-lergy.”

Aofil nods again, “Good idea,” and heads up the stairs.

Alphys turns back to the cabinet door with a deep breath, “Y-yes,” and opens it, “g-good idea.”


	22. This time it's for the good of the human

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Three exams in a week' chapter, so if anything looks off, please let me know. I'll fix it once I get some brain power back.

"That's the l-last one for now."

Alphys inspects the syringe darkened by the liquid inside. She taps it carefully with her claw before injecting it into the last empty vial. She swirls the liquid around, taking note of the viscosity. The vial slides into the place on the stand along with its cousins containing a variety of other fluids of different colors.

Aofil massages their arm. It’s gone a bit numb from all the vials Alphys has extracted, but their curse will be busy healing the wounds. Especially the small square of missing fur that’s no longer on their arm, but on a petri dish next to a microscope. A lonesome red square taken from a forest of white. The wound stings, but Aofil can manage it. They’ve been through worse.

They’ve done worse.

A series of beeps gives them an escape from the memories wanting to rush back, and they lift their head from their arm to Alphys programming a small machine with the vials inserted into it. She closes the lid over them, and the vials start spinning.

A small and careful smile grows for just a moment on Alphys, but when she turns and sees Aofil holding their arm, the smile fades away. She scoots the chair across the basement with her tail. From inside a cupboard she retrieves a roll of paper towels and a bottle of clear liquid. She pushes her way back to Aofil while pouring some of the liquid on a sheet of paper.

“Your arm?” she asks carefully while holding out her hand. Aofil places it inside her hand. “I’m just gonna disinfect it,” she explains before lightly tapping the wound with the drenched paper. It burns, must be alcohol. Nothing too bad, but it summons a small grunt from Aofil. Alphys stops, but Aofil urges her to continue. She can feel Aofil’s arm tense with every careful touch.

“D-do you want some gauze?” Alphys offers after throwing the bloodied paper into a nearby trashcan shaped like an anime cat.

Aofil blows on the wound to dry it and the alcohol. “It’ll heal on its own before the day is over.”

“I-I was just thinking to protect from infection.” Alphys looks over to the machine with the vials. It’s not done quite yet. “If it becomes infected and y-you have to visit a human doctor.”

She has a good point. “Do you have some?”

She nods and pushes her way back to the metallic cabinet. She avoids looking at the top shelf, and picks up a package of gauze from a middle shelf. The door closes quickly behind her as she rolls back to Aofil.

“Do you w-want me to roll it over the fur?” she asks, unsure if she should really use the word. “To hide it if you want to take off your jacket?”

“Might need another roll if it is to be completely covered,” Aofil notices. “I don’t want a single strand peeking through.”

“U-understandable.”

Alphys fetches another roll of gauze, still avoiding the top shelf. With both rolls at the ready, she starts wrapping Aofil’s arm.

“How come you know this, Alphys? About human medicine.”

“I,” Alphys pauses her wrapping for a second to gather her words. “I w-wanted to l-learn to help h-humans instead of...”

The gauze is tensed incredibly tightly as Alphys clenches her teeth. Aofil weathers the pain, for her sake.

“It’s m-more of a hobby though,” Alphys explains while returning to her careful wrapping. “S-something to keep my mind occupied. U-Undyne let’s me practice scrapes and s-such on her. She says that if she can get healing as a human, she’ll get closer to being as strong as one.”

With a final tug Alphys tightens the fabric, and tucks the loose end into the neatly package. Like a second layer of skin its wrapped nice and smooth around Aofil’s arm. They flex underneath it, but it doesn’t flinch. Tight as a walnut corset.

And even better, no fur sticking through. It’s probably gonna itch like hell if it gets sweaty, but Aofil can handle itching. Alphys hands them their jacket from a nearby chair, and Aofil slides the leather above the gauze as they put it on.

“Thanks, Alphys.”

She nods. “You’re welcome. D-do let me know if you’re feeling anything from it.”

Aofil pinches off some loose strands of fabric from the gauze sticking out from underneath the jacket. “Why? Should I be feeling something?”

“I-I’ve done a bit of enhancing to t-the gauze. Some of my magic. U-Undyne complained about it slipping of-ff, s-so I made it more, um, sticky. Y-you seem to be able to hold her spears, so this shouldn’t b-be a problem. I h-have some normal gauze just in case, s-so if you’re feel-ling anything. Let me know and I’ll switch.”

Aofil isn’t feeling anything different from their arm, but they nod. “Got it.”

Like Alphys said, just in case.

The vial machine starts beeping, and Alphys cocks her head at the sound. She shakes away a thought, and lifts the lid. With a careful and steady hand she tilts a vial around. The fluid inside has separated, and is sloshing around in different layers. Like a liquid flag of gray and black.

With a quizzical claw she taps the different layers through the glass, and writes down a couple of notes. “Consistent with previous samples,” she mumbles. After a couple of taps with her pen against her mouth she narrows her eyes in thought. “Fusion included both? Need to check the tissue.”

Aofil sits still and quiet while rolling their thumbs. Alphys seems to be pretty focused at the samples taken, so they shouldn’t disturb her. She is doing it for them, after all, so it would be doubly rude to disrupt her.

What else can they do then? Leave? She seems to be busy enough to not try and hurt herself. Leaving her alone would be a bit inconvenient if she needs more samples though. Undyne might’ve been able to accept Aofil going back down once, but twice would certainly raise suspicion. Good thing the tomato sauce almost caught fire. Gave Aofil a good reason to leave Undyne alone to her cussing and cooking. It doesn’t smell like anything special down in the basement, like burnt tomatoes for instance, so it seems like Undyne managed to save the sauce.

Maybe refill the water? Aofil glances over to the can. Almost full. Alphys only needed one glass before calming down, so maybe sending Aofil to get some was an excuse to get them out of the basement?

For what reason though? To calm down? To scream into the large pillow shaped like a Mikkarama? It certainly looks like it’s been recently squeezed hard and tossed across the room. It’s still slowly regaining its shape.

So no water to refill. How about her snacks? She’s pretty liberal with how many she picks up, but the package was unopened when Aofil fetched it, so probably not.

Tasted pretty good though. Sweet, with a hint of nutmeg. It was magic food, no doubt about it, but with Alphys cutting a piece off their arm Aofil is pretty sure it will be busy mending the wound and not spread to their head.

“A-Aofil?”

Aofil realizes that they’ve been staring at Alphys for the past minute or so. “Oh...” They blink back control of their eyes. “Yes?”

“Y-you can go up and b-be with Undyne if you want. It’ll b-be a while before I’m done with this,” Alphys says with a small wave of a vial with Aofil’s blood.

“You sure?” Aofil asks, just to be sure themselves.

Alphys nods carefully. “I prefer to be working alone. If y-you don’t mind.”

“It’s fine,” Aofil stands up from their chair. “Call for me if you need something more.”

Alphys smiles in relief. “Thank you. I will.”

“Nothing you can figure out now?”

Alphys searches her head. “Nothing right now, no. Oh,” she halts Aofil in their step, “if y-you're still around after y-your wound is healed, I’d l-like another sample. If that’s alright w-with you. To study h-how it h-heals.”

Aofil taps their arm, feeling their wound protest as it’s touched. “Sure!”

“Alright...”

Aofil does Alphys a favor and breaks eye contact willingly. They walk up the stairs with Alphys’ mumbling following them up. Nothing they can deduce from it, but something about it sounds just off to their ears.

Could just be that Aofil barely understand anything of what she’s saying.

Let’s go with that.

“Perfection,” Undyne whispers in a sinister tone as she closes the lid on the saucepan. Out of the corner of her eye she catches Aofil closing the basement door. Her grin grows, also being sinister and plotting.

“Smells like you saved the sauce, Undyne,” Aofil comments after sampling the smells around them. “How long until it’s done?”

“About a work out session or so.” Undyne flashes her teeth. “Gotta get yourself an appetite, you know?”

“Don’t know how much I can manage with an empty stomach though, so maybe another time?”

As if Undyne would accept that excuse. Accept any excuse. Besides head injuries, that is. She stabs an apple in a fruit bowl on the kitchen table with a slim spear and flicks the apple to Aofil. “There’s your food, for now!”

Aofil catches it with one hand, raising a pair of cocky eyebrows. Undyne crosses her arms while her spear fades away. “You just gonna look at it or eat it?”

Aofil takes a small nibble off the apple. “Gonna take me a while to get through it!”

“Ha!” Undyne scoffs. She lowers the temperature on both the oven and stove. “There! Take all the time you want!” she snickers. “Not to distract you from your eating or anything...”

Aofil halts a bite, “Too late!” but they take one shortly after, just to be nice.

“I saw you talking with MK before he took off. What were you talking about?”

“His driving,” Aofil answers after swallowing. “Why do you wonder?”

Undyne scratches the sides of her throat. “The kid uses his magic to steer, right? Applies an aura to the steering wheel to control it? At least that’s what I gathered from him.”

Aofil nods, “And his tail to shift gear,” and takes another bite of the apple. It’s really damn sweet. Hopefully not magic. “I did spot some teeth marks on the steering wheel though.”

“It takes effort to use magic.” Undyne conjures a spear that she balances on her finger. “Gotta work on your magic endurance just like your stamina. Soul and body, both just as important. Body for these,” Undyne flexes her arms, “and soul for these!” and summons two violently crackling spears that she clashes together with a thunderous fizzle.

“Impressive, I think. Can’t do magic myself so my frame of reference might be a bit off.”

Undyne flexes again. “With guns like these you know I’m packing top grade ammo, human!”

Aofil shrugs nonchalantly and takes another bite. “If you say so.” They can’t hold their face though, and a smile reveals their ruse.

Undyne catches it, “Ha!” and smiles herself. “Finish your damn apple, punk.”

Aofil cleans off a piece of apple peel stuck between their teeth. “Why did you wonder about MK?”

“Thought you asked him about the ban card. How to get more stamps.”

Aofil pats their pockets until they find the one they placed the card in. They fish it up and turn it around in their hand. “Shit’s absurd, gotta say.”

“If you had seen the prices that Mettacan has you’d know why I even agreed to it to begin with.” Undyne waves her own card. “Just a few more until I can finally get my hands on that garlic bread I’ve heard so much about!”

The image of Undyne’s stunned face and the thought of what would probably happen after she is served the appetizer is convincing and humorous enough for Aofil not to burst her bubble. Not enough damage that can be done if it pops here in her own home.

At Mettaton’s restaurant though? Oh man! Could also be enough for a second stamp, so technically Aofil’s doing Undyne a favor by not saying anything.

With Aofil’s last bite of the apple Undyne holds out her hand towards Aofil. “It’s another time now, human. So you better get ready.” With a twist of her wrist Undyne forms a spear in her hand. The weight of it pushes her arm down, but she holds it up. With her hand shaking she gives it to Aofil, who needs to use both of their arms to be able to carry it.

Undyne forms one for herself. “Curls march! Go! Sweat ahoy! Ngah!”

Undyne counts out loud while curling her spear. Every increasing number makes her smile grow wider. “Aofil!” she yells as Aofil stands still with the spear nestled clumsily in their arms. “Let’s go!”

“I’m not working out in these clothes, Undyne. Just look at me.”

With an annoyed sigh she dismisses her spears and turns the corner with her shoulders low. “Can’t work out in these clothes!” she repeats with a very low effort impersonation of Aofil. “Mettaton would be mad at me for ruining his perfect and fantastic creations!” she continues without adding any more effort to her impersonation.

“It’s not because of that,” Aofil corrects.

Undyne returns her head around the corner. “Then why not?”

“You don’t workout in dress pants and leather jacket, Undyne.”

She blows a raspberry and returns out of sight. “I’ll find you something then, you big baby! And after that, I’ll finally get to exercise with you, Aofil!”

A couple of minutes pass before Undyne returns with a pile of clothing that she throws to Aofil. A very interesting color scheme of pink and yellow is present throughout all. Then again, isn't it always.

“Bathroom’s down the hall. I’ll set up some weights and benches out back while you change.”

“Right, see you out there.”

Undyne flashes a smile and heads out the patio door. From a small shed she retrieves various weights and gym equipment. Aofil watches her set up a bench press before deciding that maybe they should do what they were asked to and go change clothes.

To their surprise the bathroom contains a toilet. From what the trucker said Aofil thought it would be rare for monster houses to have one. The Dreemurrs would have one for Frisk, of course, but here? Maybe Frisk is exercising with Undyne. Maybe Asriel is too? Would make sense, judging by how he looks.

As Aofil changes their shirt their head conjures up another reason. Maybe it’s just natural for Asriel? Asgore’s pretty huge, and Toriel isn’t exactly slim compared to humans. Does Asriel need to work out? Aofil should ask Undyne.

The sweat shirt doesn’t cover up the bandage on Aofil’s arm, but they should be able to explain it away easily. It hasn’t loosened the slightest inch, but if it starts coming off Aofil will abandon the work out immediately.

The shorts are very short, and barely covers half of Aofil’s thighs. Luckily it’s only Undyne that will see Aofil wearing these, so it shouldn’t be a problem.

“Oh my,” flusters Mettaton as Aofil leaves the bathroom.

Nevermind then.

“You could’ve let me know earlier and I would’ve made your piece of my collection more vibrant if you so wished, darling.” He peeks over Aofil’s shoulder to the pile inside the bathroom. Thrown in a haphazard pile is the jacket and dress pants. With a smile that’s a mix between confusion and bubbling anger Mettaton hands Aofil their old clothes. “I took the liberty of washing these.”

Aofil nods, “Thank you, Mettaton,” ignoring the seething look from him.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you’re not wearing the ones I gave you.” He extends a finger that travels over Aofil’s shoulder and lands on the pile inside the bathroom. “That they’re laying on the floor, tossed away like garbage. It's an intriguing sight. Perhaps infuriating is a better word.”

“You can take them back if you want. I don’t really have a use for them.”

Mettaton’s lips twist in thought, and with a now confident smirk he removes his finger from the pile. “No, actually, my dear human. I will not. See it as a gift from me. I do wish that you will treat them as such from now on.”

“Um, sure?”

“It is what Muffet would want, don’t you agree?”

That smile of his indicate he has something planned. “I don’t really see how she fits into this,” Aofil answers.

Mettaton puts his hand up to his mouth to quell a chuckle. “I couldn’t have chosen better words myself, Aofil love.”

Definitely something planned. He would probably deny it if Aofil asked.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Mettaton pats Aofil carefully on their head. “Undyne has rubbed of on you too much, Aofil. Why this suspicion of yours truly and magnificent?”

Aofil’s not really surprised by that.

“Would you look at the time!” Mettaton suddenly realizes, but a bit too much for it to seem natural. “I have to hurry, human dearie. Do send my regards to Undyne and Alphee sweet.”

“Will do.”

“Oh!” Mettaton opens up a small hatch on his chest. Inside is Aofil’s pill bottle. He retrieves it and puts it gently on Aofil’s clothes. “Almost forgot. Anyways, toodles! Don’t forget to buy M!”

Aofil hides the bottle inside their own pair of pants and places their clothes on the toilet lid in the bathroom. Not like Undyne or Alphys are gonna use it anyway. Mettaton knowing about their pills is a huge problem though. His smirk about Muffet is grounds for worry as well.

Alphys needs to find something.

Bridges to cross for later though. Right now Undyne is probably tapping their foot waiting for Aofil to arrive. Shouldn’t keep her waiting too long.

“No!”

Her shout is loud, and that’s with windows and walls between Aofil and Undyne.

“Fine! Go fetch a bench then! Jeez!”

That quick? Who is she talking to?

Just outside the patio door stands Undyne with her hands on her hips looking towards the shed at the end of her back yard. She hears Aofil close the door, and turns her head around. “You look ridiculous!” she chuckles.

“You gave me these,” Aofil reminds.

“They look great on me, of course, but on you?” Undyne stifles a chortle. “Wow!”

Aofil sighs. “Well, it’s not like I’m gonna work out in front of a crowd or anything, and if you were to spread rumors around I would deny them.”

“Ha!” Undyne laughs loudly. “No one would believe that Aofil of all people would dress up this ridiculous.”

Aofil nods. “Exactly.”

“And especially not from me, right?”

Aofil nods again. “Double exactly.”

Undyne’s lips curl into a menacing grin. “But what about?”

“FOUND ONE, UNDYNE!”

Undyne throws a thumb over her shoulder. “Him?”


	23. Working up an appetite

"Is this all that humanity can offer? You're supposed to be so much stronger than me! One more, Aofil!"

The steel bar rests heavy and uncomfortable on Aofil's chest, pressing down on their rib cage. They adjust their grip and collect their air.

With a determined grunt they press with whatever is left of their energy, but the bar doesn't move.

"I know you can do more!" Undyne leans over the bar. "Hit me in the face with it!"

"U-Undyne," Aofil stammers in between their heavy breaths. "I c-can't!"

"I didn't catch that last word, whelp! Nor will I ever catch it! Ngah! Push!"

Aofil tries, but the bar still doesn't move. It's so heavy, their strength is sapped. Gone like the exasperated air Aofil's forcing in and out of themselves.

"You think punks are worthy of my cooking, human? No!" Undyne grabs hold of the bar and pushes it down. Aofil has to summon every ounce left of their stamina to keep it from crushing their ribs. "Punks don't get to taste the fish, punks don't get anything. You are paying for your meal, Aofil, in sweat! And I demand at least an entire ocean of it!” Undyne releases the bar. "Now bench this into outer space! Ngaah!"

The bar moves! It moves slowly, but it's moving. It's shaking like an earthquake, but it's moving! Closer and closer to the resting rack. Ever so closer.

"More, Papyrus!"

What? The bar feels heavier! It’s coming down! No, Aofil's so close. Just a little bit more.

"More!"

It's heavier again, but if they drop it now they'll seriously hurt themselves. The bar is scraping against the rack, just need that last push!

"Last one, Papyrus!"

No! Push it! Give it your all! Don’t give in!

With a soft clank the bar nestles itself into the resting rack. Aofil’s arm falls down on either side, exhausted. They greedily gasp for air to fight off the dizziness closing in around their vision. Undyne helps them sit upright so that Aofil can get more air in. “Gotta work on that stamina, Aofil,” she remarks with a snark, but Aofil can’t find any pause in their breathing to talk back to her. “Good sets though. I’m proud of you!”

If Aofil had any strength left in their body they would return her smile.

Carefully Undyne leans Aofil onto the conquered bar with their arms over it as she returns to her own bench to pick up some dumbbells. Aofil is heaving their chest up and down to inhale all that precious oxygen, every fresh intake is like sweet nectar. Their arms are still shaking a bit, but they’re recovering. Worst of all, it feels good. They’re exhausted, but it feels nice and warm. Like they’ve just survived the worst that could happen in the world, and that they’re still alive to tell about it. They’ve worked hard, and they’re gonna be stronger because of it. No pain, no gain. They’ve had their pain, so all that is left is gain.

“Damn it,” Aofil curses loudly the brief moment they feel they can talk without fainting. “Now I want to do it again!”

“Ha!” Undyne clanks her dumbbells together in a show of respect. “Told ya you’d love it, Aofil!”

“Love is,” Aofil pauses for some much needed oxygen, “the wrong word to use here, Undyne.”

“That’s your wrong opinion, human. I’ll make it right though, trust me on that.”

“Great!” Aofil sighs quickly as to not exhale too much air.

“I’m impressed you managed to hold out against Papyrus’ magic as well as the plates.” Undyne curls both her arms and smile. “I myself consider it cheating, but you’re a human.”

“Papyrus’” Aofil breathes in both through their nose and mouth, “magic?”

“I MADE THE BAR BLUE!” Papyrus slows down his jumping rope so that he can talk and hear through the whipping sound of the rope moving around him incredibly fast.

“Blue?” Aofil asks while flopping their head to the side.

“CORRECT, HUMAN! UNDYNE ASKED ME TO, SO I MADE THE BAR IT BLUE!”

“What’s blue?”

“A COLOR, HUMAN!”

“He made your bar heavier,” Undyne chips in to help.

“Oh,” Aofil tenses up a bit once they realize. It stops their breathing for just a moment though, and almost instantly afterwards their body screams for air, so they clumsily gulp down some more air. Some enter the wrong throat, and they have to quell a burp.

“It gives him a work out as well,” Undyne explains while laying down on her own bench. She switches the dumbbells for a heavier pair, much heavier pair, and presses them up over her chest, “and that’s the cheating part!”

Seeing Undyne focused on her set Papyrus steps in. “IT’S BETTER TO FIND YOUR OWN LIMIT THAN TO HAVE SOMEONE ELSE SET IT FOR YOU, AOFIL! FOR AS MUCH AS I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, LOVE TO ALWAYS HELP MY FRIENDS, YOUR LIMIT WON’T BE THE SAME AS MINE!”

Undyne prepares for another chest press. “Too little and it won’t be effective, too much and it’s dangerous.”

“But,” Aofil feels like they’ve regained enough strength to sit up on their own. They reach for their water bottle, “having a steel bar over my chest with no energy left to hold it up sounds a bit dangerous to me.”

“IT’S NOT OVER YOUR CHEST NOW!”

“Yes, but what if I dropped it?”

“You had me spotting you,” Undyne reassures, “and Papyrus holding the bar with his magic. I’d never put you in danger.”

Aofil raises an eyebrow, barely.

“Not when it comes to working out,” Undyne adds with a smile.

“And what about finding my own limit? Didn’t you set it for me?”

Undyne puts down her weights and sits up to rest for a bit. “You set it yourself, I just encouraged you to set it higher.” She drinks some water. “And next time it’ll be higher!”

Aofil sighs through their lips. “Of course it will.”

Undyne lies back down and prepares another set. She grabs her weight with an eager grin. “With you being a human you should have no problem keeping up, right? Like this!” She thrusts her weights above her. “Ngah! Even Papyrus...”

The weights fall down from Undyne’s hands, and lodge themselves deep into the grass under her. Her eye twitches, and she sits up slowly. “Papyrus?” she growls through gritted teeth.

He turns around, making another bald patch in the grass with his jumping rope. The white fence behind him is stained by shredded grass and dirt. “YES, UNDYNE?” he asks, digging himself further down into the ground.

Without taking her eye off Papyrus she grabs a hold of his jumping rope mid spin and wraps him up with it, all while grinding her teeth together. She leaves Papyrus with his torso tightly bound with his own jumping rope. “Five hundred laps, Papyrus!”

“AROUND WHAT?” he asks, not making an attempt to free himself.

“The world! To bring me the finest seeds to replant my lawn!” Undyne summons a sharp spear that she lunges between Papyrus’ feet. “Now move it!”

The rope around Papyrus arm budges slightly as he tries to salute, but it stays wrapped. “ON MY WAY!” He takes off running over the fence, kicking up a lump of dirt that lands on Undyne’s shirt.

“If you throw a spear and hit him he won’t be able to get your seeds,” Aofil reminds as Undyne’s wrist twitches and flexes violently. She spins the freshly conjured spear in her hand, eager to throw it.

“I know!” she replies while still keeping her murderous gaze locked on Papyrus skipping over backyard after backyard. “And I hate that you’re right, Aofil!”

“You know what might make you feel better? Some food perhaps?”

Undyne bounces her spear in her hand impatiently, but ultimately settles on just sighing deeply and letting it fade away. She returns to her bench, and picks up her weights. “Let me just work this energy off.”

Aofil drinks some water in the meantime. “Sure.”

They lose count after fifty or so repetitions, but it doesn’t take many minutes before she lets the weight fall back into the dirt, again settling into the same holes they did before. She sits up glistening with sweat and rolls her shoulder. “And that’s how you keep your mind intact with Papyrus around!”

“Do you want me to bring the equipment to the shed?” Aofil offers.

“Nah,” Undyne looks up with her hand above her eyes for shadow. “Doesn’t seem like it’s gonna rain anytime soon. I’ll get it a bit later, might do another session.” She turns to Aofil with a bright smile. “You up?”

“Can’t really answer it on an empty stomach, I’m afraid. Perhaps if I had some lunch in me?” Aofil proposes innocently.

Undyne crosses her arms. “Is that so? Well then, let’s eat!”

Finally!

“After we’ve showered!”

That’s fair.

Undyne rushes in first, almost gliding across the tile floor with the amount of sweat dropping from her. She makes sure to check the sauce and fish before continuing to the bathroom. Aofil decides to enjoy the weather a bit more while they wait for her to finish. They have themselves some more water from their anime decorated bottle in the meantime.

She pops her towel wrapped head out the kitchen window a couple of minutes later. “All done! Your turn. I’ll set the table while you’re showering.”

An intense smell hits Aofil like a heavy wave when they enter the bathroom. Their nose, mouth, sinuses, and lungs, are filled with an overwhelming pink smell. They cough, but it barely helps. It stings their eyes, better hurry into the shower while they can still see.

To Aofil’s delight the falling water helps cover and repel the invasion of whatever that smell is. Taking a glance through the bottles on the shower shelf they hazard a guess that it is one of the many pink colored shower gels on display. Some for scales, some for hair, but none for skin. Figures, neither Undyne or Alphys have any.

They don’t need to use a toilet though, yet still they have one. Aofil reminds themselves to ask about it during lunch.

For now they pick the bottle that looks the least pink. It still smells like a hurricane of pink, but at least it’s not as intense as a tornado. It feels a bit off using it though. The gel is not as soft as they’re used too. To be honest, it’s quite rough. To be able to clean scales? Sounds plausible enough. It certainly cleans Aofil’s skin very well, but they’re probably gonna be red afterwards from the friction.

The shampoo seems human though, and smells very human too. That is to say, somewhat reserved. Still pink, but not eye burning pink. Should they clean their arm too with it? Alphys can wrap it up tight again if Aofil removes it, but that might risk Undyne seeing it. Aofil rubs down their gauze with the shampoo. Some should leak down into their fur.

It’s a good thing Undyne bought their excuse. Hearing that Alphys is practicing her human medicine on a real human had Undyne convinced. Heck, even excited about it.

“Frisk never let’s her try!” Aofil recalls her saying. It’s not until they give it some thought that it starts sounding a bit weird. Why doesn’t Frisk allow Alphys? They afraid she might find out about their sudo curse as well? Perhaps make the connection to Chara?

Or maybe Frisk knows that once they offer but a finger to these people, they’ll eventually ask for the entire body. Only a matter of time now that Undyne will nudge Aofil in the side and propose that Alphys tries to cure their cough or something. Perhaps allow Alphys to saw their leg off and put it back?

Maybe not that extreme. Although ‘maybe’ implies a small chance. A small chance that will probably keep Undyne up at night thinking about how she can convince Aofil.

After rinsing their gauze for a minute or so directly under the shower head to be absolutely sure that the shampoo is washed away from under their fur Aofil turns off the shower and grabs a towel.

“Towel temperature under specified threshold!” informs the towel rack loudly. “Be wary of unpleasant drying!”

Aofil jerks back from the robotic voice, they reach for the towel again, but the rack stays quiet this time. The towel is only mildly warm, but it’s warmer than what they usually use. Aofil narrows their eyes on the dial next to the rack, and their eyes shoot wide open when they see the chosen temperature. The fabric of the towel can almost catch fire at that temperature! Aofil dries themselves off with a sigh.

“I’ll never understand these monsters.”

Mettaton kept his word, to Aofil’s surprise. He actually washed their clothing. He did it thoroughly as well, Aofil’s never felt this clean before. Their phone has some scrapes on it thought. Scrapes that weren’t there before.

Doesn’t seem like Mettaton managed to access it though, or at least, didn’t change anything. For what reason Mettaton would poke around in their phone Aofil can only guess. Whatever reason, Aofil’s gonna be on their toes next time they meet him.

Could also be that Aofil’s playing it up too much in their head. Possibly, but with what happened earlier today, and how it came straight out of the blue, or pink, in this case, Aofil’s already on their toes.

The pink smell fades the closer Aofil gets to the kitchen, and the vague acidic smell of Undyne’s sauce replaces it. A good trade in Aofil’s book.

“You l-look a bit red, Aofil,” Alphys notices from her chair at the dinner table. She carefully beckons for them so that Undyne doesn’t notice. “Is it b-because of t-the tests?” she whispers.

“No,” Aofil whispers back. “It’s your body wash. My skin is smoother than your scales, and your body wash is a bit more rougher than what I’m used to.”

“Alr-right, remember to t-tell me if s-something happens. C-could be import-tant.”

Aofil nods. “Sure. How’re the test going?”

“H-haven’t been able t-to g-get any results yet. It t-takes a while, it’s n-not like the m-movies, even with my magic.”

“Right. Again, thank you for doing this, Alphys.”

A hand slams down on Aofil’s shoulder. “Doing what?” Undyne asks while leaning over Aofil’s other shoulder, completely locking them in place until she gets an answer.

“Just some human medicine Alphys was wondering about.”

“Yeah, you told me that, but what exactly?”

“I let her take some blood from me.”

Technically Aofil’s not lying.

Undyne raises an eyebrow while challenging Aofil’s eyes. A smile breaks through her facade and she squeezes Aofil’s shoulder. “Big mistake! You’re giving up your human secrets willingly! What a fool!”

Undyne returns to her sauce. She makes a final test for taste before clapping her hands, “Perfection!” and brings it to the table. She retrieves the fish from the oven and the pasta as well, placing them next to the sauce. She lifts off the lids and throws them like frisbees into the sink where they crash loudly. “And that’s the lunch bell! Enjoy!”

Alphys serves Aofil some noodles, fish, and sauce. They happily take it and wait for her and Undyne to serve themselves before sampling a taste. Undyne’s been busy these past years, she’s improved a lot.

“Well,” Undyne asks while leaning not too subtly onto Aofil, “how is it?”

“It’s good.”

She shakes her head.

“It’s very good,” Aofil adds.

Still shaking.

“It’s almost perfect.”

Undyne points her fork at Aofil. “Now you’re just teasing!”

Aofil spins their own fork in the pasta, “I know,” and help themselves to another mouthful.

Undyne returns to her own plate while silently scoffing to herself.

It’s nice. It’s really nice. Aofil’s missed this. The loud bombastic events giving way to a quiet and somber meal with friends. If only they could return to this, if only they could move back. Alphys has to find something to help them get rid of this damn curse.

“Swallowed a bone?” Undyne wonders after seeing Aofil’s gritted expression. “Need to use the toilet?”

“Hm? What?” Aofil looks to Undyne before realizing what she said. “Oh, no, it’s fine. Although, come to think of it.”

Alphys and Undyne share a short glance with each other. “I thought it was kinda taboo to talk about toilets and stuff during lunch,” Alphys says with her head tilted towards Aofil.

“Dinner too! Frisk never answers us,” Undyne adds with a twirl of her fork. “We installed it and everything despite not needing it!”

“I mean,” Aofil puts down their fork, “that was what I wanted to ask. Why do you have one?”

“Mostly for Frisk when they’re over. Toriel and Asgore insisted since Frisk and Asriel train with me,” Undyne explains.

Now this is interesting. “Train for what, exactly?”

“Eh,” Undyne shrugs. “Just some ceremonial stuff, you know. They’re the royal siblings after all, so they need to be in shape and be proficient in magic usage. At least, Asriel has to, Frisk usually just watches.”

“I’d imagine being a Boss Monster that Asriel has quite the impressive magic, right?”

Undyne taps her fork impatiently on her plate. “Can you keep a secret?”

She has no idea. Aofil nods.

“His magic...” Undyne sighs through her teeth. “I’ve almost seen snails with stronger magic than him. He tries, even more so than I’ve ever seen Papyrus try, and that’s saying a lot.”

“I can imagine.”

“He’s not too happy about it. Poor kid.“ Undyne stares out the window. “I don’t think he’s told his parents about it. Don’t think that Frisk has either. He’s fantastic at everything physical, but I think he’s a bit ashamed over how weak his magic is. Mind you, I’d never berate him for it,” Undyne makes perfectly clear. Not that Aofil would ever doubt her. “He comes here and gives it his all, and then some more! Heck, he’s almost beaten me! Almost though! Not that I’d ever let him! I can’t train him further if he beats me, right?”

“Student becoming the master?” Aofil teases with a raised eyebrow.

“Over my dust! It does give me motivation to become stronger myself! That whelp will eventually beat me, and when that day comes I will be as happy as a teacher can be! It’s like a kid becoming smarter than you, Aofil!”

“I mean, it’s kinda the goal.”

Undyne snaps her finger. “Exactly! I’ll not make it easy for him though! And I’ll make it even worse for Frisk! And the worst of all,” Undyne summons a spear and points it to Aofil, “is awaiting for you! Finish your meal, human! We’re doing some more after you’ve digested your food. It’s a weakness of you humans, and I’m gonna bask in it.”

Aofil sighs and their shoulder sink. “But I just showered...”

“Yes, for your first training session!”

“And what gives you the impression that it will be a second training session for me?”

Undyne taps Aofil’s arm with her spear. “Because you need it! We can’t the youngsters get the best of us! We have to be the examples they look up to!”

“And besides,” Undyne fizzles away her spear, “Muffet loves muscles. She’ll be all over you with her many spider arms, and more importantly, her doughnuts!”

“Making a lot of assumptions here, Undyne.”

“Eh,” she swallows the last piece of fish from her plate, “you’re making the assumption that you have any say in the matter,” and winks playfully, “human.”

Three knocks on the kitchen windows catches the attention of all three inside. “Undyne? Me and Frisk got off earlier from school and...”

Asriel and Aofil’s eyes meet.

Undyne notices the tension building between the two. “Oh yes!” She rubs her hands together. “This is gonna be great!”


	24. Clear the mind before readying your fists

“Please!”

"I've barely finished eating, Undyne!"

The blue hands clasp together in an air tight lock. The bundle of fingers plead desperately. Knees go down on the kitchen tile floor, again pleading entire souls worth. The eyes go soft, a mix of eagerness and desperation clash together forming watery tears that distort the widened pupils begging for hope, begging for the human to accept what the soul behind the yellow eyes long for.

Undyne puts her elbows on Aofil’s thighs and shakes her hands together. “Please! It will look so cool! Just a tiny bit, just a tiny tiny bit?”

Aofil pushes away Undyne’s pointy elbows from their thighs and massages away the pain. “Are you sure even Asriel wants?”

Undyne flies up on her feet again and throws her hand towards the backyard. “Look at him!”

Asriel is sitting on a bench warming up his shoulder. He’s changed into a more loose fitting shirt with Undyne’s face on it.

“He’s just as desperate as I am to see you two fight! Even more so!”

Aofil shakes their head. “This might comes as a surprise to you.”

Undyne starts beaming with excitement.

“But somehow I’m not convinced.”

And immediately after her face sinks down along with her shoulder. Her uneven teeth are exposed in an irritated underbite that she’s grinding side to side. “Don’t have so be dramatic about it.”

“Look who’s talking!”

Undyne waves the accusation off with her hand. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

Aofil’s face does the talking. Their stone cold, non flinching face. Doesn’t appear to be enough for Undyne though, so Aofil mouths a very clear, and very articulated, “No!”

Which just slips past Undyne like a sigh in the wind. “You don’t have to go toe to toe or anything. Just lean your feet a bit against each other or something? You know, just a couple of fireballs between friends. I do it all the time with Papyrus, but with spears. Big spears.”

“Which translates to big fireballs between me and Asriel?”

“No, no, no. Didn’t you hear what I just said?” Undyne pinches two of her fingers together while narrowing her eyes at Aofil. “Just small ones. Who knows, maybe he can muster up enough magic for a big one when you’re battling him.”

Aofil crosses their arms. “And why would that be?”

Undyne shoots a glance outside to make sure Asriel’s busy. She leans in closer to Aofil. “I’ve heard him say stuff about you. When he’s going hard on the boxing bag.” Undyne throws a couple of punches in the air. “I mean, I say your name too. Just the usual though, nothing like what he does.”

Aofil’s eyebrows shoot up. “What?”

“You know, the usual. You being a human, and how easy I defeated you when we sparred on Mt. Ebott. So I thought you would spend your time away training to beat me. Which meant I had to keep up!”

“The usual?” Aofil repeats with their eyebrows still high into their forehead.

“I guess… kinda?” Undyne’s hands fall down at her sides. “I had to rationalize you leaving us somehow...”

Oh god, she’s playing that card, and it hits Aofil’s heart perfectly. Piercing right through. The card works, god damn does it work. Aofil’s here because it works. Guess Undyne has to get at least one good use of it before Alphys fixes it for Aofil.

But she hasn’t yet, so Aofil’s forced to go with their conscience. They nod.

Undyne didn’t quite catch it.

Aofil nods again.

Undyne regains her composure, but she still has to wipe away a small tear that barely formed in her eye. “It’s for Asriel sake.”

“Sure it is,” Aofil sighs through their lips, “sure it is. I think I need some new clothes though.” They cock their head towards the bathroom. “The ones I had before have been lying around in sweat for a while now. I know you don’t have a nose, Undyne, but...”

A swift, but loose, bump on Aofil’s shoulder from Undyne shuts them up. “Don’t make statements you aren’t willing to back up in battle, punk. I’ll get you some more clothing, Aofil. Go and have a chat with Asriel, see how he wants you two to fight.”

Aofil clears their throat and halts her in her step out of the kitchen. “Isn’t it better suited if you do it.”

Undyne throws a thumb over her shoulder. “I’m off to get you suited though. Besides, I like to be surprised! And more besides, if I know what you’re doing I might be biased.”

“Or you might know what we plan to do so that you can interrupt if things go too far,” Aofil counters with a tilt of their head and eyebrow.

Undyne returns a wide smile. “I can defeat both of you with both hands tied behind my back. So interrupting you will be no problem whatsoever. Now get out there to the smaller Asgore and get him to spar with you. Ngah!”

She disappears around the corner before Aofil has time to voice any more concerns. Not that she would listen and or take note of them if she stayed. Now that she’s gone though, maybe Aofil can talk a bit to Asriel. See how he feels about yesterday. Maybe break the ice before they break each others noses. Hopefully it won’t be that extreme.

Asriel was a bit pissed when they departed each other last night though.

Well, time to grab the bull by the horns, the goat by the horns, the Boss Monster by the horns. Aofil blows their lips as they stand up and head for the patio door. Yes, Toriel said she didn’t mind to be called a goat nowadays, but Aofil’s pretty sure Asriel would still take mind to it. Gotta keep it to just sparring, not actual fighting.

Although Aofil also wonders if they really should even call him a Boss Monster. He was a bit down and out about the whole concept yesterday, to say the least.

Why even address him with anything besides his name to begin with?

“Careful...”

Aofil trips over a dumbbell lying in the grass. They stumble for a bit before regaining their balance clumsily, and find themselves right next to Asriel, who looks at them perplexed and a bit dazed by the spectacle.

Aofil smiles and stands up straight. “Hello, Asriel. How’re you doing?”

Asriel breaks eye contact and returns to his sit ups. “Stuff and things.”

Aofil takes a seat on the bench that looks the least sweatiest. “Feeling better since yesterday?”

He shakes his head without breaking away from his session. “Nope.”

“Alright,” Aofil nods to themselves. Good job there, idiot. They put their hands together innocently. “You wanna talk about it?”

Asriel keeps his eyes looking at the horizon instead of acknowledging Aofil. “We did plenty yesterday.”

“Maybe now that you’ve digested it a bit?” Aofil proposes while turning their neck around to make sure Undyne is out of hearing distance. They spot some of Alphys’ tail through the basement window, but she should also be out of ear’s reach.

Asriel stops to drink some water. He washes it around his mouth before swallowing hard. “I’m still confused about you, about Chara, about me,” he counts on his fingers, “about my place, about being alive, about why, about how, about when, about everything.” Asriel reaches down under his bench and picks up some dumbbells before lying down on his back with them stretched over him. “So you know,” he laughs with a faint snarl hidden, “the usual.”

His exhales take a more frustrated tone, and his movement becomes more harsher, more violent. Aofil might as well just ask him before they dig this conversation further down into the ground. “So, wanna spar?”

Asriel turns his confused head to Aofil. His lips are curled in such discomfort that it peeks through his befuddled expression. “What?”

Aofil nods towards the house behind them. “Undyne’s suggestion.”

“But why?”

Aofil shrugs. “Something about me being a human, and that you might get stronger if you fight one. Her logic, not mine.”

Asriel carefully puts down his dumbbells and sits up facing Aofil. “Does she know about your curse? Is that why she suggested it?”

That’s a great question. Does she? Aofil’s not entirely sure. “I’m gonna say no, but I’m not certain of it. I sure damn hope she doesn’t.”

Asriel looks at his hand. He flexes them open and close, staring deeply into them. He flicks his wrists, and two flames form inside his palms. They’re small though, barely providing enough light to color his fur orange and red. He clutches his fists together. “Dammit,” he mutters, and slams his fist down on the bench. “Dammit...”

With a deep sigh Asriel drags his hand over his head. “You think...” He halts his words to think, but it only seems to make him more frustrated. “You think you can handle it? My magic, that is. Without feeling your curse?”

Aofil takes note of the shift in Asriel’s tone, but they decide not to mention it, not directly. “So sparring sounds like a good idea to you?”

“I guess? If Undyne thinks so, then maybe it is a good idea?”

“Just like that?”

“Wasn’t that what you just wanted?”

Aofil lifts up a hand. “It wasn’t my idea, it was Undyne’s. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”

Asriel looks around for the joke Aofil’s apparently telling, but he doesn’t find it. “But I want to.” He lifts a hand of his own, a baffled hand. “I just said that I wanted. If Undyne thinks it’s a good idea, then it is a good idea.”

“Don’t know if I totally agree on you there.”

Asriel’s brow furrows into stone. “You haven’t seen her for years, you don’t know her.”

Aofil motions for Asriel to calm down. “I was just kidding.”

Asriel picks up his dumbbells again, “Sure,” and returns to his chest presses.

Undyne’s taking her sweet time finding some more clothing. Aofil again checks behind them. Still no sight of her. Is she scheming up a plan or something? Or is she giving Asriel and Aofil time? How long does she think the two of them need?

“Mom and dad sent their thanks for the snails, by the way,” Asriel informs with a muttery tone. Sounds like he just wanted to get it out of his head and not think more about it.

“And Frisk?”

“Haven’t had theirs yet.”

Aofil nods. “Right.”

“Mom wonders if you’ll be staying for dinner,” Asriel continues. Still just to get it out of his head.

“Maybe,” Aofil answers with a shrug, “depends. I’ll answer in good time though.”

“Dad also wonders-” With an angry grunt Asriel throws down his weights. “Why?” He flies up like a springboard. “Why you? Why can’t they ask themselves? Why send me? I’m so sick of this!”

Aofil jerks back a bit, but Asriel doesn’t advance in on them.

“I’m so sick of the thought of you. About all of them clinging on to you despite you abandoning them. Why can’t they move on? You made it perfectly clear that you didn’t want anything more from us when you left, so why did they treat it as you just going out for groceries?”

Aofil waits for Asriel to run out of air to retort. “They didn’t though.”

Despite not having his breath under control Asriel still continues. “The worst thing,” Asriel coughs as he cuts off his breathing rhythm, “the worst thing is hearing how great you were. What did you actually do, Aofil? I want to hear it from you.”

“I…I just met them. They popped out of the cave, and I was the first human they met on the Surface. Didn’t have anything better to do, so I stuck around.”

“Until you didn’t.”

“Well, yes, that’s true,” Aofil throws their shoulders and arms up, “but what is it you want me to say, really?”

“I don’t know...” Asriel leans his head into his palms. He takes a moment to try and collect himself, drawing tired sigh after tired sigh until he balls his hands under his chin. “I just look at you and I become so frustrated. I don’t know why. It just happens. Like there’s something that just takes over me. Like I’m overwhelmed by anger.”

Sounds familiar. Not a good sign.

“Maybe it’s because you feel it reminds you of how they acted when you and Chara died? Sounds the same to me.”

“Maybe,” Asriel scratches his muzzle, “maybe. Or perhaps life just wants to throw whatever shit it has on me now that I’m alive. I came back from the dead so I’m not allowed to complain, right?” Asriel scoffs. “I’m acting like a child! Fucking joke, everything.”

“To be fair, I’m the only one you can take it out on. Might even be the best choice even if I wasn’t the only one.”

Asriel shakes his head. “Shouldn’t even take it out on you. What good is a prince if he can’t handle his emotions.”

“At least the prince is alive,” Aofil reminds.

Not to great effect. “Alive to feel all the shit weighing me down.” Asriel drags his hands over his eyes. “I just want to not think about it, not think about anything from before.”

“I know,” Aofil nods along while looking off to the side, “I know. You feel a bit better talking about it though?”

“Yeah,” Asriel admits. “I do. Thank you.”

“I don’t want to sound rude or anything,” Aofil taps their fingers together while searching for the least hostile words to use, “but have you tried talking to a professional? Not about Chara or that, but about what you can talk about. Like being a prince despite you not feeling like one. It might not take all the weight off you, but it might help a bit.”

“Mom and dad have noticed, but I’ve always played it off. They haven’t suggested it, and I don’t want them to, ever. I know how to fake emotions.”

“Not really because of a good reason that you learned to though.”

“Besides, who can I talk to? Humans wouldn’t understand, and neither would any monster. The only one I can think of is that small dog that’s running around, but only because it wouldn’t even understand the words I’m saying. It’s not intelligent enough to not understand my situation.”

Aofil puts their hand up while curling and stretching their lips while debating whether or not to say something. “I mean...” slips out of them though.

Asriel shuts Aofil down with a glare. “I’ve already tried. Didn’t work.”

“Alright then. If you say so.”

“I’m saying so.”

With a sympathetic nod Aofil agrees to drop the subject. “Fine.”

“Thanks.”

“You just tell me if you want to talk more,” Aofil offers. “You’re still a kid, after all.”

“You have your own problems.”

“I know,” Aofil rubs their arm through sheer reflex. Luckily they realize and stop before Asriel notices, “but you’re the prince so you take priority.”

“Don’t. Please.”

“Right,” Aofil tilts their head to show that they’re sorry, “don’t bring it up.”

The patio door opens a couple of silent minutes after, and Asriel and Aofil welcome the whatever change in subject the person might bring.

It’s not Undyne though.

“Asri...”

Frisk’s mouth shuts close hard when they spot Aofil. They freeze for a split second, and then drop their pile of towels and water bottles in their hands. Their neck twitches, and they rush back inside. It’s not long before they’re out of view, but during the few seconds Aofil sees them through the kitchen window Frisk is clasping their head and weaving as if they’re losing their balance.

Asriel takes after Frisk, almost knocking over his bench when he springs up on his feet. “Frisk!” Aofil decides to follow. Asriel holds the door open for them and the two of them follow Frisk out the front door and down the gravel path leading to the street.

Frisk is taking support on the anime decorated mailbox at the end of the gravel path. Their hand is clutching the mail box, and almost crushing it too. Asriel reaches Frisk first, and they jerk back in fear when Asriel puts their hand on their shoulder.

Asriel’s in a state of close panic. “How are you? Are you hurt?” He quickly checks Frisk for any wounds or anything that could explain it, but he doesn’t find anything. “What is it?”

Aofil catches up to the siblings shortly after. “Should I fetch Alphys, Frisk? She knows some human medicine.”

Frisk shakes their head and motion for both Asriel and Aofil to stay away.

Asriel fumbles through his pockets. “You want me to call mom?”

Hard shake. Frisk takes one final glance on Aofil before they burst up the road towards their home. Asriel wants to follow, but Frisk motions for him to stay where he is. He watches them run all the way up the road. Frisk slams the door behind them once they reach their home.

Asriel stands still, breathing heavily. He’s too stunned to know how to react. He looks over to Aofil, but they can only shrug. “First time Frisk did something like this?” they ask to try and understand themselves.

Asriel shakes his head. “Yeah, never seen them do something like this. Can it be a human illness or something?”

“Anything that involves sudden pain in the head is a bit worrying, but Frisk shouldn’t have anything. It’s usually much, much later in life that something like that should happen.”

“Usually...” Asriel hangs on the word. “Their resets,” he whispers.

Aofil realizes that it was the wrong thing to say. “And by that I mean that it rarely ever happens in the first place,” they try to salvage. “Forget what I said. No, I don’t think it’s a human illness.”

Too little, too late?

Arsiel stares towards his house with eyes that seem to go right through the door. “Maybe...”

Maybe?

A notification sound escapes his pant pocket, and Asriel picks up his phone. He reads it for a bit before showing it to Aofil.

“Sorry for scaring you, bro. Just had a huge headache all of a sudden. It’s fading now, but I’m gonna skip the gym today. I’ll have mom check on it, just in case, but I feel fine now. She’s home now, so keep doing your workout,” the message from Frisk reads.

Aofil hands Asriel his phone back. “Still sure it’s nothing?” he asks with worry in his voice.

“Could be the sun? Maybe not enough water? If it’s fading then it maybe was just a one time random thing that just, you know, happened, all of a sudden, without rhyme or reason. Just breezed by, so to speak. I’ve had some of that for myself before.”

Asriel nods, but Aofil can tell he’s not completely convinced.

“Frisk said that Toriel’s home too. She can heal it, if it’s still there.”

Asriel looks down at his hands. He huffs angrily at them and snap his head to Aofil. “Undyne said that you sparring with me might help my magic?”

“Something along those lines, yeah.”

“Then let’s do it. If it happens again then I want to be able to heal Frisk so that mom doesn’t have to worry.”

Good a motivation as any. Aofil puts up an encouraging thumb.“I’ll do my best. Just need to wait for Undyne to get me some training clothes.”

A loud and sharp whistle from Undyne and Alphys’ house cuts Aofil and Asriel’s ears, and they both recoil from it. They turn around to Undyne hanging her head outside the bathroom window. “Where do you think you’re going, punks?” She forms a spear in her hand that dangles outside the window along with her head. “No way am I letting you run away from this! You’re gonna spar!”

“I need my clothes for that!” Aofil shouts back.

“Five more minutes in the dryer! Now get back behind the house and clean up unless you’ve already done it! I don’t want you tripping over stuff and embarrassing yourselves. Ngah!”

Undyne closes the window.

Asriel looks up the road again. His fists clenches tighter. “Please let this work.”

Aofil takes lead back up the gravel path. They spot Alphys tinkering with a microscope through a window in the house foundation. “Same here, kid,” they pray under their breath.


	25. A method of coping

"I just..."

Aofil's brow furrows in thought. They cough one last time to clear the impact of falling flat on their back.

"Why did we think this would end any different?"

The grass in the backyard feels a bit different than the lawn at the front. It's cut a bit differently. The blades of grass have more of an angle to them compared to the more flat slice at the frontyard.

Undyne’s face pops into view as she squats down next to Aofil. “You alright?”

“Seriously,” Aofil readjusts their focus from the green grass to the blue face, “why did we think this would be different than all the other times I’ve sparred with any of you?”

Undyne rubs her chin while tilting her head from side to side. “You know,” she glances up to Asriel flexing his hands, “sometimes you gotta play the wild card to win the hand. Maybe you learned a bit from watching me slap Mettaton around earlier today?”

“Didn’t he catch you?”

“Ha!” Undyne offers her hand. “He only caught me because I started laughing. Like I said, wild card.”

“Like you would have enough patience for poker.” Aofil accepts Undyne’s outstretched hand. “Or the face for it.”

Undyne helps Aofil up on their feet, “One of the few cases were I have to give Sans credit,” and assists them in brushing off the grass from their back. “You can’t read anything on that smile of his.” She picks off a small stick from Aofil’s shoulder and flicks it away. It lands just in front of Asriel, and he picks it up.

“Pretty sure that he cheats with his magic though. You see him twitch just the slightest and,” Undyne glances a slap to get the last pieces of grass off Aofil’s back. The pieces flutter in the air. “Whoosh! The cards fly all over the place.”

“And then he blames it on the draft?” Aofil guesses.

Undyne nods as Aofil’s right on the money. “And somehow he wins the pot, or calls my bluff.”

“Well I never.”

“Hey!” Undyne throws a friendly bump on Aofil’s shoulder. “I’m sure I can fit you in one day! It’s always hilarious to see Asgore trying to bluff. He gets very touchy with his beard once he has a good hand, that’s his tell!”

Why not? “Sounds nice.”

“Yo, Asriel!” Undyne whistles loud and sharp, almost breaking Aofil’s eardrum. “How does your old man cope with me always knocking him out almost instantly? Does he wash his beard after I wipe the floor with him? Ngah!”

Her laughter goes straight through Asriel, who’s soul focus is on the stick. His eyes are fixed and locked tight on it. He places it in the palm of his other hand, and closes it inside his forming fist. A faint orange glow pulsates in his hand, and when he opens it the stick is no longer there. A pile of ash remains which he sighs at. The small and black particles spread out over the grass. He moves his eyes to Aofil, and with a disappointing shake of his head he walks back to his bench.

Undyne is quick to steal Aofil’s attention. “He’s disappointed in himself, Aof. Don’t worry!” She flashes a reassuring smile. It fades as quickly as it forms though, and she looks over to Asriel to make sure he’s busy before leaning in towards Aofil. “He might’ve hyped it up a bit too much in his head.”

“Only he though?” Aofil shoots back with a whisper. “He told me you had been hyping me up as well.”

Undyne tilts her head back. “Me?” she asks with a raised brow.

“You in general.”

Undyne lets it sink in for a couple of seconds before again whistling to Asriel. Aofil has to throw their hand up to cover their ear quickly as to not become deaf. “Az!” Undyne shouts. “Gotta work on your back a bit now! It’ll help your posture as well. Get those toned and thumping so that I can teach you some of my special moves. Ngah! I want to be able to squeeze my orange juice for tomorrow when I come back to your back! Ngahaha!”

Her encouraging and brimming smile again fades away in an instant as she turns back to Aofil. “Should keep the kid busy, let’s head inside.”

Undyne closes the patio door behind Aofil with a heavy sigh. She sits down next to Aofil with her hand and elbow holding her head up. With another tired exhale she sits up straight. “When you left us, Aof, we...” Undyne has to bite down on her knuckles, “we we’re kinda in a panic. You didn’t say goodbye to me or Alphys. You just...”

Her fist slams down on the table, cracking it, and almost in two. She lifts her fist up again to her mouth after gritting her teeth through the impact. “You just packed up and left. Not even packed up even. You just…”

“I’m-”

Undyne puts her hand up. “No, don’t say anything. It’s better if you don’t say anything. I can’t do a back and forth, not on this,” she scoffs, knocking away the tiniest of drop from her eye. “Toriel or Asgore can probably explain it better, but I feel like it’s better that you hear the sloppy version first before you hear one from someone who’s entire job is to explain difficult things. If anything it’ll ease you into the royals’ explanation, right?”

Aofil’s not really sure how to react here. Undyne is smiling at them, yes, but god damn is it plastered. How much is behind it?

“Sure,” is the only thing Aofil can muster.

“So,” Undyne collects herself for another attempt, “you left us. You abandoned us. I know you didn’t, we all know you didn’t, but we all felt like you did. We’d known you for so long, and then you just left us! The first human we met on the Surface, the first human for our new chapter.”

Undyne snaps her fingers. “Gone! Hopped in a cab and never looked back!”

She’s wrong. So so wrong. Aofil remembers wishing that they could never look back. The couldn’t though, they were always reminded. The dreams, the thoughts, their arm. Everything! Not to mention the horror they felt when they found out about the first wave that would integrate into the human society.

Realizing that what Aofil had tried to escape was following them. Their arm screaming every second a monster was near them. Only stopping once Aofil was exhausted. Only stopping when they…

No! They can’t think back, they can’t fall back into that void again. They have to stay focused! Undyne’s finally gonna explain it all, so they have to listen! They can’t fade away in thought like this.

“Aofil?”

Aofil realizes that they’re clutching their hands something fierce. They ease their grip. “Sorry. You can continue.”

Undyne waits for a moment to make sure Aofil means it. “Suddenly the first human we met was gone. Was it our fault? Can we even live here on the Surface if we scare the humans away? If we drive them away?” Undyne tilts her head towards the kitchen window. She rests her eyes on Asriel doing his routine. “And on top of that, the prince was alive again.” She throws a hand towards him. “Just look at him. The reason Asgore declared war against humans is doing back exercises in my home on the Surface. The same back exercises I did during my post down in the Underground. The same exercises I did so that when the time came, I could lay waste to the humans under the flag of monsters taking back what the humans deprived us of. Under the lead of a king turned god, the power of seven human souls bottled up and commanded by Asgore.”

Undyne catches her breath. “Yet, here the prince is,” she sighs, ”making the same shortcuts I did when I was a novice,” and stands up from her chair. She opens the kitchen window. “You’ll scrunch up your core if you don’t do those rows properly! Toriel will have my head if you come home to her looking like a literal question mark! Ngah!”

Undyne closes the window, but keeps herself standing in place. “He’s so grown up now. It feels like it was only yesterday that I told him to wait a couple of years for his body to mature a bit more before he could even fathom to survive what I had in store for him.”

With her hair whipping against the window sill, almost knocking of some spices, Undyne turns back to Aofil with a conflicted smile birthed from the contradiction she just realized. “Which is a bit strange,” she scoffs and scratches her cheek, “since I feel like it’s been ages since you disappeared, Aof.”

After seeing that Asriel is doing his exercising properly Undyne returns to her chair. “The shock of you being gone wasn’t the easiest to process. What with all we had on our table regarding resurfacing.”

“Trouble?”

Undyne shakes her head, “No,” but then thinks it over and instead nods with her head tilting from side to side. “Yes? Maybe? I mean, we’re building our own city for crying out loud! On the fricking Surface! With humans helping us! To you, living on the Surface might sound normal, but to us it’s the craziest thing! There are monster kids that have been born on the Surface, Aofil! Kids that have never seen the Underground in there entire life! That’s unbelievable! We have monsters living in human cities!” Undyne leans back in her chair with her arms crossed. “Toriel wants me to say just cities,” she reminds herself with a whisper before uncrossing her arms and returning her focus to Aofil. “And! We have humans working here in our city. They’re all working for that pink postbox, granted, but still. That’s a good sign, right?”

“Met one yesterday,” Aofil recalls. “A human girl working at the MTT store.”

The words don’t reach Undyne though. “And the kids back at the makeshift school we had in the Town Hall. They’re not kids anymore, but back then... They didn’t stop asking for you, Aofil. Never stopped wondering when you would return.”

“And so did we…” Undyne looks through Aofil. “Days, weeks, months, and before we knew it had become an entire year without you. Had Frisk not been there for us.” Undyne puts her hand over her mouth as her eye starts watering. “That kid, they’ve done so much for us. Still doing so much for us. Frisk was, and is, the glue holding us together during all these years. I don't mean this is any disrespectful way, Aofil, but it's sure as hell gonna sound like it, what you've done barely holds a candle to what Frisk has done for us. Helping us, making us determined beyond our wildest dreams. Is it weird if I think that Frisk made us feel human?”

How could it not? “What do you mean, exactly?” Aofil wonders very curiously.

Undyne chuckles away some tears from her eye. “You humans know determination far more than we monsters do. You’re practically swimming in it while we have just a drop, so to speak. With Frisk with us though!” Undyne clashes her hands together with an excited grin taking over her face. “I feel like I can do anything! I love that little brat, they’re a brat in all the good ways. The lip on that kid is sharper than my spears, let me tell you.”

Not that Aofil would know. “They’re still the ambassador for you?”

Undyne shakes her head slowly. “No, never was. Toriel might’ve said that they were between us friends, but never officially. Even I know that, Aof! I mean, Frisk did make headlines about being a human child in the care of the monster royals, but you know, never official.”

“Gotcha.”

“But anyways,” Undyne shrugs carefully and accompanies it with a small sigh, “yeah, things were tough. All the legislation, all the bureaucratic stuff that I had to stay awake for. It was hell, I tell you.”

“But it resulted in you monsters getting a foot back onto the Surface, right?”

Undyne nods, but it’s reserved. Her eyes lose focus, and drift off into the horizon. “It resulted in that damn riot. Everything we tried to do, it all almost went up in dust right before our very eyes. It was supposed to be where we and the humans came together, but not like that!”

The table finally cracks under Undyne’s fist. Cyan sparks dance sporadically around her fist as she clenches it tighter than ever before. Aofil regains their balance after having the table cave under their arms. “Undyne?”

Her lips expose a set of tortured and dreaded teeth clenching their damnedest to hold in the storm brewing inside. “I...” she breathes heavily through her wall of white, “I almost killed someone.”

Aofil puts offers their hand to her, very carefully. “Undyne?”

She doesn’t see it. “I was so close to losing control. Had Asgore not spoken up and given me the window to get things under control. To get myself under control.”

“But he did, Undyne.”

She nods. “He did.”

“He did.”

“The weeks following the riot. I nearly lost my mind.” Undyne sinks down in her chair with her chin supported by her arms resting their elbows on her knees. “Seeing everything crumble like it did. Again, had Frisk not been there, I don’t know if we even would still be on the Surface.”

“I talked with a monster yesterday about this. About the riot.” Aofil finally manages to catch Undyne’s attention. “He said that it eventually mellowed out.”

A small smile on Undyne’s lips gives Aofil immense relief. “It did. Somehow it did. I’m not gonna question how, I’m just so relieved that it happened. We could move on, we could make a new home on the Surface.”

Aofil taps their foot on the tile floor. “You sure did.”

“Dammit!” Undyne rubs her hands on her face tiredly. “Sorry, Aof, here I am talking about me when I brought you aside to talk about you.”

“Hard times to talk about?”

She nods while dragging her hands down her cheeks. “Yeah, sorry.”

“Alright,” Undyne refocuses herself and her thoughts, but it takes a minute or so, “about Asriel. From what I could gather from Frisk.” She takes a quick look out the window just to make sure Asriel’s still busy. “Asriel has been a bit...”

“Under the weather?”

“Yes, to say the least. I’ve asked Frisk about it, if I can help. Help more than whipping him into the best shape of his life, that is, but once Frisk stops talking there’s no determination strong enough to open them up. It’s pretty obvious that everything’s weighing him down though. He says he’s fine, and from what I’ve seen he is, but seeing how Frisk acts around him, it’s pretty obvious. Only thing Frisk has asked me is to keep quiet about it. I’m assuming to Toriel and Asgore, maybe Pap and Sans too, Alphys as well,” Undyne lifts an eyebrow, “but I’m pretty sure you should know, because of…well...everything.”

Aofil’s not entirely sure what she means by that. “Everything? You gotta have to be more specific with which ‘everything’ you’re talking about here.”

“You know,” Undyne crosses her arms and taps her fingers impatiently, as if she’s waiting for a bomb to explode, “with you being the first human we met, a teacher for the kids, a really good friend to all of us. You opened up your home to us, your soul as well, and you saved saved Asriel along with Frisk. You’re pretty much a grown up version of Frisk.”

Aofil’s not entirely sure if they’re comfortable with that comparison.

Undyne sighs. “And that’s the problem. The adult Frisk left us. The adult Frisk didn’t want to stay with us, didn’t want to help us.”

The adult Frisk isn’t at all happy about where this is going. Not at all.

“It’s just, you know, made sense for you to be that, you know? For Asriel.” Undyne scoffs nervously. “I mean, you kinda did what Frisk did, but on the Surface. We met you and you helped us through some rough time. I’m underplaying you both here, but you catch what I’m saying here, right? It just made sense for you to be the adult Frisk. A human we could all look up to, someone who would help us with this new chapter of ours.”

Aofil’s conflicted expression hits Undyne like a brick. She scratches her cheek anxiously. “So, now that I think about it, with you being here,” she pauses for a split second to come to terms with what she’s saying, “you’ve kinda ruined it.”

“I’m...” Aofil leans back in their chair while staring into nothingness. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Oh my god.” Undyne clutches her head as it becomes light as a feather. “I’m not sure if there is a good way of saying this, but yeah, Aofil, you’ve ruined it by showing up.”

Aofil’s stunned. What the hell? Ruined it? They never asked it to be built in the first place! That’s why they left! What have the monsters been doing?

“Why?” Aofil tries to formulate whatever words they can, but it’s not working. They’re stunned beyond belief.

Undyne tries to save it by smiling warmly and throwing her arms out. “Hey, I’m not saying that we’re glad to see you. Hell, we’re overwhelmed to see you, Aof! No one’s gonna be mad with you back!” Her smile disappears in the blink of an eye though, and her arms fall down when she realizes that there’s no saving this situation. “Except, well...” Undyne nods in defeat, “Asriel.”

“I...I don’t know what to say to this.” Aofil caresses their chin, but it isn’t helping. “What the fuck?”

“I’m sorry.” Undyne hangs her head. “Looking back at it now with you here. You just...” she tries to cover her mouth, but it fails, “you just disappeared. Just gone, after all you did for us.”

“It was because of all I did that I left, Undyne.”

“Frisk talked their way to saving us.” Undyne’s head snaps up. “So why didn’t you talk to us about it? Why did you just leave? We could’ve worked something out!”

“Because I didn’t want to become a fucking hero,” Aofil roars back through gritted teeth, “but apparently I became one regardless of my say in the matter!” They sink their heavy head into their exhausted hands- “It was too much for me. I’m not someone special like Frisk. I was just the first human you saw! It just happened! Not for a reason or anything, it just happened. Wrong place at the wrong time.”

Undyne face dips into a conflicted frown. “W-wrong?”

“It’s what I’ve been feeling for the past years, Undyne. I don’t hate you, or Toriel, or anyone else, for that matter, but...” Aofil grunts hard to let out some anger while they still have some control over it. “As it stands, and as I look back at it, I can only see the horrible things that have happened. I want to see the good things, I want to be happy that it all happened, but I can’t! It hurts too much.”

An uneasy silence hangs in the air, smothering both Undyne and Aofil. The truth pushes down on them like a thick blanket.

It takes a long while before Undyne muster enough strength to ask. She knows the answer, but she has to ask anyway. “So you’re not moving back to us?”

“I’m not sure if you should even be asking that right now. Besides, even if I wanted it wouldn’t be fair to myself to even consider it.”

Undyne stands up, and makes her way around the broken table. She stops next to Aofil, who also stands up. “I guess,” she says with her lips quivering like a recently plucked guitar string. “I guess this time you’ll say goodbye though. So that’s a plus, right?”

She finally breaks. Aofil catches her as she wraps her arms around them. “Goodbye, Undyne.” Aofil wraps her back. “You have no idea how much I want to move here, but I can’t. It would be unfair for me to do that to myself.”

She squeezes Aofil tightly, pushing them against her. “Promise me you’ll work out so that you’re strong enough to face me next time. Alright?”

If there even is a next time…

Undyne lets Aofil go. She tries to dry her eye, and then bumps Aofil on the shoulder. “Can you say goodbye to Alphys as well before you leave? I know I’m in no position to ask, but for old times sake? The good old times sake?”

“I’ll do that.”

Undyne again tries to remove the flooding tears in her eye. “Good. Thank you.”

Aofil breaks eye contact, because Undyne would never want to. They hang just inside the basement door for a minute to try and collect themselves. It doesn’t work, not in the slightest. They’re shattered, even more so than what they were when they arrived. They knew it was a mistake to come here! Why did Aofil think it would end any damn different?

Alphys has to have found something! She has to! Something good needs to come out of this!

Aofil knocks on a piece of plank standing next to the bottom of the stairs. It catches Alphys’ attention, and when she sees who it is, she immediately starts to wring her hands. “A-Aofil...”

“Have you found something?”

“Y-y-y-yes-s-s.”

Aofil stops in their track.

“I f-found it-t a w-while ag-go act-tually, b-b-b-ut,” her breathing increases. “P-please d-don’t b-be m-m-mad at m-me!”

“What?” Aofil walks up to her a bit too quickly. “What did you find!”

“N-n-nothing.” Alphys wrings her tail until it almost snaps in two. “I f-foun-nd nothing.”

“What do you mean ‘nothing’?”

Somehow, Alphys wrings her tail even harder. “I-I k-knew I s-should-dn’t h-have d-done it-t.”

“Alphys!” Aofil grabs her shoulders. “What did you find!”

“Y-you h-have n-nothing ab-bnor-rmal w-with y-you.”

Aofil hastily removes their arm from Alphys’ shoulder and unwraps it. “Then what about this!” They almost shove it right in Alphys’ face. Aofil runs their fingers through the white fur. “How is this not abnormal?”

“I m-meant y-you s-soul.” Alphys cowers behind her tail and hands. “Y-your d-determination.”

Aofil fumbles for something to sit down on. Their hand finds a chair, and they manage to sit down just in time. “My determination?” Aofil grabs whatever paper they can find around Alphys, but they can’t understand anything. They look around for anything that’s legible for them, and at the bottom of one page they find something scribbled with a barely readable set of letters.

“no difference.”

“A-Aofil...” Alphys says from behind her tail and hand.

It tears Aofil from the pages, and they meet her eyes with their own. What does it mean? She has to tell them!

“Y-you h-have n-no c-curse.”

The papers fall daintily to the floor.


	26. Behind the veil

"No!"

Aofil stumbles backwards, hastily fumbling for a grip on the wall mounted cupboard. They knock a couple of flask out of the way in their hectic scrambling, and one rolls off the cupboard and bounces loudly on the cement floor.

"No, my soul is cursed! Y-you must be wrong, Alphys! You only ran one set of tests."

She cowers behind her tail.

"My soul," Aofil moves their hand up their chest, "my soul is broken. Why else would I be feeling this way? Why else would I have had it flourishing every single day?"

Their fingers clutches their skin tightly. "Look!" Aofil focuses their entire being, "It's-"

A red glow fills the basement with long and slick shadows dancing on the walls and floor because of Aofil's shaking fingers. Aofil stares at the crimson heart in fear, in dread. Sharp gasps bring in just enough oxygen to fight away the sinking feeling draining them of color and strength. The red soul hovers gently in Aofil's grasp, just above the fur on their arm.

Throughout the soul, slithering through the cracks present, like a glistening river in a vast landscape of blood, runs a thread not of red.

"What?"

But of white.

"No..."

The same white that is staining their arm.

"No."

Is staining their soul.

"No!"

Aofil reaches for it, they need to get it out! It can't be there, it can't be holding their soul together.

A flash of surging pain shoots through Aofil once their finger touches their soul. They recoil back, gliding down to the floor with their back against the cupboard.

They reach for the white snake in their forest of red again. They have to get it out!

The resulting pain forces their arm back, and their elbow crashes against a cupboard door. The impact shakes the entire structure causing a small knife to fall off and land next to their leg. It's the instrument Alphys used to remove the tissue from their arm.

Aofil picks it up. If it can remove the white from their arm it should be sharp enough to remove the white from their soul!

"A-Aof-fil!"

Alphys rushes as fast as she can to the human about to gouge their own soul. She wraps both of her arms around Aofil's hand that's clutching the knife. Leaning back with all her weight, she halts the first attempt, but she instantly feels Aofil winding their arm back for another try.

"A-Aof-fil! Don't! You'll d-die!"

"I need to!" Aofil fights against Alphys, shaking their arm wildly. "It can't be like this!"

Alphys hangs on, but just barely. She’s losing grip! Desperately, she tries to restrain Aofil's hand, but she's slipping! The scalpel is closing in! She doesn't have time to call for Undyne! She has to do something!

Now!

Alphys whips her tail around and slams it into Aofil's soul. The hit radiates throughout Aofil, echoing inside them an unimaginable pain through every bone and cell. They drop the knife as they clutch their torso in a desperate attempt to endure the pain. The bouncing metal sound is quickly drowned out by Aofil's pained scream. It startles Alphys, and she lets them go while putting her mortified hands up to her muzzle.

Aofil bends over in agony, absorbing their soul back into them in the process. They collapse on the floor, sobbing and breathing sharply and irregularly as they heave from the anguish pulsating within them.

Alphys looks at her hands, terrified over what she has done. “Not again.” Her face contorts as she balls her hands into two lamenting fists. “Not again!”

The basement window suffers violent knocks. A muffled voice full of worry just barely makes it through the thick glass.

But there is no answer.

A few seconds later the basement door explodes open and a set of hasty footsteps makes their way down the stairs.

“Alphys? Aofil?” Undyne shouts, mortified over the image before her. “What’s happening?”

Aofil slowly braces their weight on their arm. Their chest is still thumping with agony, but they have to get up. They have to get out of here!

Undyne helps Aofil up on their knees. Carefully she leans them back onto the cupboard. She checks quickly to make sure that there’s no immediate bleeding or damage. “Sit still, alright Aof?”

She rushes over to Alphys to make sure she’s fine. “Alphee? What happened here?” She gently tilts Alphys’ head to make eye contact with her. “Look at me, Alphee. You’re safe, I’m here.”

“I-I d-did it-t a-ag-gain, Un-n-dy!” Alphys dives onto Undyne’s shoulder. “I-I d-did it ag-gain! I-It’s h-happ-pening ag-gain!”

Undyne eases Alphys down on the floor with her. “It’s fine, Alphee. It’s fine. I’m here,“ she reassures warmly. “I’m here with you, it’s safe now.”

Aofil collects whatever breath they can. They place their hand down on the floor for support, but it slips and they fall back down with a pained groan.

Undyne snaps her head around. “Don’t move!” she commands. “I don’t know if you’re hurt or not, so stay fricking still!”

Aofil needs to get out of here! They can’t stay any longer! They again try to prop themselves up on their legs.

“I said don’t move, Aof!”

A spear crashes next to Aofil. It fizzles before bending over Aofil’s legs, holding them in place. Aofil grabs the spear to try and rip it loose, but it’s locked tight. “Let me go!” they slam their fist on the spear, but it does nothing. “Let me go!” Aofil’s tears evaporate into small puffs of steam as they land hard on the magical shackles.

Aofil stares at the fur on their arm. It can’t be! It can’t be helpful! No! Never! Alphys’ wrong! “You’re wrong!” they shout to the hunched over yellow lizard. “It is a curse!” Aofil raises their fur stained armed, and slams the patch down on the cyan magic stretching over their legs.

Immediately a surge shoots out of their arm, and immediately their fur reacts. Aofil’s entire being is filled yet again, a familiar and warm wave surges through them, enveloping them throughout.

Something’s wrong! Aofil doesn’t feel nauseous, they don’t feel it to be wrong, but that’s wrong. It’s supposed to be wrong! Why does it feel right? They’re reinvigorated! Their breathing is calming and their pain is fading. No! No, that’s all wrong! Aofil doesn’t accept it, they refuse it!

They try and force a heave from their stomach, but it refused.

They try and give in to the anger, but they’re being soothed.

They’re not filled by dread, fear, nor anger.

They’re filled with determination!

Aofil again grips the conjured hobble around their legs. Why do they have strength for it? They feel the magic give in to their efforts. Why does it budge?

With a determined pull the shackles come off. They sizzle away in the air around Aofil as they stand up. Aofil puts their hand over the patch of fur. It’s warm, comforting, soft. Why?

“God dammit!”

Aofil slams their fist down on the cupboard. Their hand starts shaking from the pain, but another wave from their fur calms it. They slam their fist down harder, feeling their bones crack from the impact. Before the pain can reach their head though another soothing wave erases it completely. Aofil’s left gritting their teeth against nothing. Clutching against pain that never arrives.

Their stain is healing them, helping them stay alive. Helping them stay determined.

But.

Aofil falls back down on their knees.

It’s not supposed to…

Their head falls into their hands.

It’s not supposed to!

Thick tears find their way through the tiny cracks in between Aofil’s fingers, dripping like light rain onto the cold and gray cement floor. Aofil wants to fall over, they want to lay down and disappear, but they can’t help but feel like they can take on the world. How? Why are they like this? It’s a curse, why is it helping them?

It’s the reason for everything! It’s the reason why they’re tired. It’s the reason why they’re angry. It is to blame for everything! It’s because of their curse that they had to move away. Why they had to leave their friends without as much as a goodbye.

It’s why Aofil abandoned them.

It’s why Aofil has to abandon yet again. They have to leave Tylior, their job, their friends, because Aofil can’t live with monsters. Aofil’s cursed! They’re allergic to magic. They have to get away from it.

So why is their arm healing them? How can they feel better from something that is the reason they’re feeling this horrible?

“I don’t understand.” Aofil clutches their head. “I don’t understand!”

What can they do? The only thing that helped them before. They have to get away, they have to abandon what their curse have stained. Their friends, their everything. Aofil’s a threat. They can lose themselves to their curse. They can be taken over by magic they never asked to wield.

Aofil removes their hands to discover a small puddle between their knees from their tears. They stand up. It’s so easy. Why is it so easy? They don’t feel tired, they don’t feel exhausted.

How can Aofil’s body be so against them? Their body prospers from their curse. It grows stronger. Is it even their own? Is it Chara’s? Did the switch really happen that day at their summer home? Aofil’s cursed soul in Chara’s body. Is that why this is happening?

Aofil’s head feels lightheaded, their entire world is spinning. In their fumbling their foot pokes at the knife on the floor. Aofil tries to focus on it, but their eyes refuse. They know what it is though. They see enough to know where it is.

Aofil needs to get away from their curse.

They pick the scalpel up.

Aofil needs to get away from their own body!

A blue hand snaps at Aofil’s wrist from outside their field of vision. Their arm is twisted around, and Aofil loses control of their hand. The knife again lands on the ground, but this time Undyne kicks it away as hard as she can. It embeds itself inside a gizmo on the other side of the basement.

With her eyes screaming anger and confusion she throws out her other arm, firing a spear into the backrest of a chair on the other side of the basement. A ghostly chain forms, connecting the spear and Undyne’s outstretched arm. She tugs at it, and the chair flies into her hand. She spins Aofil around, “Don’t!” and slams them down into the chair, “Move!”

She spins Aofil back around and gabs hold of their head. “The hell were you doing with that knife?” she shouts into their face.

Aofil can’t answer, their head is too jumbled.

“And why is your forearm covered in fur?”

“C-curse,” Aofil mumbles, not loud enough for Undyne to hear.

“And why are you looking fine yet acting like someone possessed?” Undyne's frustration over her failure to understand anything that’s happening boils over, and she clutches her own head. “Ngah! You almost stabbed yourself, Aofil!”

“I need to get away...”

“No! You’re staying right here until you’ve told me everything.” Undyne snaps her head over her shoulder. “You too, Alphys! Asriel’s on his way to fetch Toriel, so if you’d rather that I know than any of them now is the time to speak up!”

No answer.

“That wasn’t a question!”

No answer.

“And don’t you two ever think that I enjoy this!”

Alphys looks over to Aofil, who’s slumped over in their chair. Their eyes are glazed and focused on a horizon far far away. She lowers her head. “A-Aofil, t-they…” but she doesn’t have the courage to continue.

Undyne squats down to Alphys’ level. “Please Alphee. I’m fricking freaking out over here. I looked through the window up there and saw Aofil trying to stab themselves and you desperately dragging their arm away. I’m a panic here, Alphee. I’ve no idea what’s going on! How could this day turn on its heel like this?”

Alphys swallows hard. “A-Aofil, t-they n-need h-help.”

“Are they hurt? Is it their soul? I caught a glimpse of something that was red between their hand and chest, was it their soul?”

Alphys nods. “Y-yes, b-but it’s n-not their s-soul t-that’s h-hurt. It’s act-tually the op-pposite.” She coughs lightly. “A-Aof-fil need-ds-”

“Already tried it,” Aofil shakes their head without moving their eyes, “didn’t work.”

“B-but, n-now y-you know-w w-what it is, A-Aofil!” Alphys shouts back with tears flying from her eyes. “N-now y-you can g-get t-the help y-you n-need!”

“I thought you would help me, Alphys, but look where that got me.”

Undyne has to struggle to keep Alphys in her grasp. “It got you t-the t-truth! Y-you h-have t-to r-realize t-that it is-s! Y-you’ve h-heard it, n-now y-you h-have to ac-ccept it!”

Aofil’s eyes finally focus, and they flop their head to meet Alphys’ burning stare. “How do you-”

“Because I’ve done it before!” Alphys roars, cracking her voice and leaving her coughing and clutching her throat. She refuses Undyne’s help, and waddles over to Aofil while forcefully drying away her tears. “T-the tests went b-by quickly.” Alphys voice is coarse like gravel. It hurts her to speak, but she has to. “T-the r-reason it t-took s-so long is b-because I r-realized that y-you w-were s-standing ov-ver t-the same v-void I w-was.”

She coughs violently, further straining her voice. She throws her hand up to again stop Undyne from stepping in. “I,” Alphys’ groans against her voice. Had she been human she’d be coughing up blood. “I s-saw m-ys-self in y-you. T-the p-pain, t-the t-thoughts. H-how n-nothing was w-worth any l-longer. I w-wanted t-to r-run away. G-get aw-way f-from everyt-thing t-that h-hurt. T-the on-ne t-thing th-hat s-saved me. T-the one r-reason that I’m-m s-still h-here, is m-my f-friends. T-they w-were t-there f-for me, h-helped me.” 

“It h-hurts!” Alphys throws her arms out. “Ev-very s-single d-day it hurts! It’s b-because I h-have f-friends ar-round me t-that I c-can still f-function. D-don’t l-leave, A-Aofil. D-don’t m-make t-the m-mistake I alm-most did!”

She glances back to Undyne before taking a guilty inhale. “A-and if-f a h-human isn’t-t st-trong e-enough.” Alphys grabs a hold of her head, to keep it from falling apart. “H-how c-can I e-ever b-be s-strong en-nough?”

Undyne grits her teeth. “No! Alphys! You are strong enough!” She bolts over and swirls the yellow lizard around. Alphys’ tail punts Aofil’s feet, but they don’t notice it. “There are so much strength inside of you, Alphee!”

“B-but if A-Aofil c-can’t...”

Why? Why are they always putting the blame on Aofil? Why are they always looking to them for help? They’re no one special, they’re just a human. Why don’t the monsters understand?

Alphys and Undyne embrace each other. Undyne doing her best to keep Alphys’ sobs suppressed and quiet for Alphys’ sake. A long and deafening silence follows until Undyne finally manages to meet Aofil’s eyes. “Aof, what the hell is going on?”

Does she even deserve to know? After all she’s done? After putting more weight on Aofil’s shoulder without them asking for it? Does any of them deserve?

“Why is your arm like that? It looks like something from the royals.”

Toriel, Asgore, Asriel. So needy of Aofil. Ever since they first met, and even more since...

No, they can’t be doing that! Aofil’s not…

And just like that, it all clears for Aofil. They laugh. It’s so obvious. They are cursed, and it is their soul. It’s not because of some old prophecy though, or it being broken. No, their curse is worse.

Way worse.

Aofil sits up straight while staring at their arm. A loud creaking sound follows them up, but once they’re almost standing, it turns dead quiet. Not even a sound from Alphys, or Undyne.

“My arm,” Aofil grits their teeth, “I got this patch when I saved Asriel. My soul was broken, I died when Asriel and Chara came to my summer home. They almost killed me, my soul almost shattered, but my dad saved me. Because of that I’ve lived with a broken soul. When I saved Asriel, whatever soul was left in Flowey fused with me. I don’t know how Asriel was created, but he was, and a piece of him is now holding my soul together.”

Aofil runs their fingers through the patch of fur. “This is him.”

Undyne and Alphys are stunned beyond belief. They’re not even looking at Aofil.

“What the hell is going on here is another story though, Undyne. What’s been going on has been going on from the first second I met you, met any of you. It’s never stopped, even when I left you it kept going. Day in and day out, I was subjected to it without any input on my end.”

Aofil massages their forehead. “You all talk about new chapter this, new chapter that. How you’re gonna leave all the bad things about the Underground behind so that you can once again live on the Surface with us humans. You say that, but there’s one thing you’ll never let go of. One sin that will always crawl up your back, and it’s because of me that you can’t move past it.”

Aofil points to their eyes. “It’s this.”

They drag their hand through their hair. “It’s this.”

They tap their cheeks. “And this.”

And pat their chest. “And this!”

“It is all my curse. To never be me, to never be myself. No, because in your eyes, I’m not Aofil. I’m not me. I am Chara’s twin.”

No answer.

“And that’s my curse, being Chara’s twin. To never be seen as something else through your eyes. You’ve all told Asriel that I’m the adult Frisk, but that’s not true, I’m the adult Chara. Your Chara died in the Underground, your Chara was buried down there, but once you broke out of your prison you found another literally on your doorstep. How lucky! Now you can continue Chara’s legacy, don’t mind asking the damn vessel if they even want to.”

Aofil scoffs. “And that’s why I can’t be near any one of you, that’s why I can’t be around any monster. Because I’ll always be the other Chara, and never myself.”

Aofil takes a deep breath. “So please.” They turn around. “Toriel,” they address the stunned monster standing at the top of the basement stairs. “Asgore,” they address the monster to the left of Toriel. “Asriel,” they address the monster to the right of Toriel.

“When I leave through the front door, who’s back will you see? Aofil’s, or Chara’s?”

No answer.

Aofil throws their arm up towards the Dreemurrs. “Well there I have it then!” They make their way up the stairs. “Good luck with your new chapter. Neither Aofil or Chara wants to be a part of it.”

Aofil squeezes themselves through the gap between Toriel and Asriel. The static causes their hair and arm to stand straight up. They just have to fetch their phone and wallet from the bathroom and then they’ll be out of here. Fucking mistake, the entire ordeal. The metal door handle shocks Aofil’s hand, and they retract it without thinking.

“My child!”

Aofil tilts their head down while shaking it. “Too little, too late, Toriel!” They turn around. “You had y-”

Standing inches away from their face, and with a muzzle contorted into a furious snarl, Asriel grabs Aofil’s collar, and throws them against the wall.

“Asriel!” Asgore shouts, but to no effect.

Aofil sinks down on the ground, clutching the back of their head. There’s no blood, but their head hit the wall quite hard.

Asriel towers over them, fists clenched, and chest heaving up and down from his angry huffing. “You hypocrite! It was all fine to have me talk about my problems, but when it’s about you it’s all arms waving around in the air and leaving without as much as try to work it out! You did it once, Aofil! How did that work out for you? You’re just gonna leave everything behind because you’re too afraid to admit that you’ve been lying to yourself all these years?”

No, he’s wrong! He’s wrong. It is a curse. Aofil knows it! “It is a curse!”

“You said to me to forget all about Chara, but here you are, blaming everything on them! Chara’s not our escape goat, they’re yours! You fucking idiot!”

“Asriel, enough!” Asgore commands, shaking the entire house with his voice. He walks up to his son and puts his hands on Asriel’s shivering shoulders. “Go to your mother. I’ll handle this.”

Asriel rips away his burning gaze from Aofil with a frustrated grunt. Toriel embraces him warmly, softly running her hand on Asriel’s head.

With little effort Asgore forces Aofil’s focus to him. “Aofil,” he pauses to scratch his head, “how about I put on some tea?”

Aofil stands up without Asgore’s help. They don’t need it. They brush themselves off. “You do that for yourselves.”

Asgore solemnly nods. “I understand. It was nice seeing you again, Aofil. You’re always welcome back.”

All other evidence screams the opposite, but whatever, his waste of air. Aofil fetches their stuff and slams the front door behind them.

“Guest profile added for later visits!” informs the doorbell.

If there were anything bigger than gravel around Aofil would’ve thrown it.

They knew this was all a mistake. Now they have to walk away from it all.

Again!

“Next bus leaves in thirty minutes,” the ticket vendor smiles. “You might be the only one traveling on it. I hope you’ve enjoyed your stay here, human.”

Aofil takes the ticket handed to them, “Yeah, sure,” and heads to the nearest bench to sit down. The vacant parking lot is quiet, and Aofil welcomes the silence with open arms, and then some. They sink down in the bench and close their eyes. They need some time for themselves right now.

Need, but not given, as shortly after they’re joined by another human. Aofil peeks open one eye, only to find the last human in the world that they want to see right now. A human that has Aofil leaning their head back over the back rest of the bench and sighing deeply through their lips. “Is it even worth me asking why you’re here if you’re not even gonna answer me?”

Frisk clenches their legs with their hands.

“So I take it your headache is better now?”

Rows of teeth grit against each other.

Aofil turns their head away. “Guess not.”

“Not. Here.”

Aofil’s brow furrows immediately. They can’t help but stare perplexed into the distance. Frisk spoke to them. Why? Their curiosity spins their head back to Frisk. “What do you mean?”

“Please! Just.”

Frisk clutches their head, shaking it back and forth. Their breathing becomes strained and pained. Frisk nods violently towards the bathrooms on the other side of the parking lot. They try and stand up, but their legs won’t listen.

“Help.”

Aofil puts their arm under Frisk’s shoulder. “Do you want me to call Toriel?”

“No!”

Aofil recoils back from the intense plead. What’s going on?

“Bathroom.”

“Sure, I’ll get you there.”

“The code is five three six two,” the ticket vendor shouts. “We had to add a code after humans complained about monsters using it as an attraction rather than an utility.”

The keypad accepts the code, and lets Aofil along with a grunting Frisk into a pristine bathroom with stalls and faucets with mirrors in rows on opposite walls. It’s empty and devoid of anyone else. Finally, some luck.

Aofil opens a stall door for Frisk, but they slide off and braces themselves on a porcelain sink instead. They stare at themselves in the mirror.

“What’s happening, Frisk?” Aofil asks, a bit uncomfortable with the entire ordeal, to say the least. “You sure you don’t need help?”

Frisk puts a hand up towards Aofil, but in doing so they almost lose balance. They return their hand to the sink as quickly as they removed it.

Again they stare at their reflection, but strangely, their breathing calms. It’s not what Aofil expected, but it’s a good sign. Right?

Frisk lifts one hand and looks at it. Inspects it, almost as it was a piece of jewelry. They gently flex it before removing the other and doing the same. They cock their head, and then nod to themselves. “Yes, I promised. I know.”

For a third time Frisk catches themselves in the mirror, but they act like it was the first time. A smile forms on their lips. “It’s been a while...”

Aofil takes a step back. The fuck is going on here!

“It’s me.“ Frisk turns their head around.

Aofil crashes into the stall door behind them. The door swings back and smashes against the tile wall with a loud bang. Aofil hits their tailbone on the back rest of the toilet, but the pain doesn’t reach their head. It’s too occupied by the human leaning against the stall door on its shoulder smiling and eyeing Aofil.

Crimson blossoming behind the eyelids.

“Your sibling.”


	27. Siblings at heart

"Frisk? What's happening?"

They cock their head and wrinkle their nose at the question. "Frisk? No." They look down, "I mean, yes," and run their hand over their body. "Frisk is not here at the moment though."

Aofil remains not convinced, and on the bare edge of grabbing the nearest loose object.

A deep sigh echoes throughout the stalls. "Do I really have to convince you, Aofil?"

How do you even begin to answer such a question? How do you convince someone that their long dead sibling is back? And possessing someone else?

"Frisk, knock this shit off, alright?" Aofil regains some form of composure. It's not much, but at least they're not slipping off the toilet seat. "If you want to talk, that's fine. Just don't do this, it's fucked up. I’m really goddamn serious right now."

What the ever loving hell is going on?

The smaller human blows through their lips, “Okay, let’s see,” and furrows their brow in deep thought. “Our parents were horrible towards us. Couldn’t even muster up a ‘I love you’ to save their life. We finally had enough, and decided to climb Mt. Ebott to learn magic from the monsters down in the Underground.”

There’s a pause. A long and silent pause, as the striped shirt wearing human’s face goes through a wide array of emotions. Back and forth, back and forth. Conflicting with each other, melding with another. They rub their eyes tiredly, and drag their hand down to their mouth. “We...” they hesitate. “I…fell down. You had second thoughts, Aofil. Remember?”

“All of this I’ve told you, Frisk,” Aofil retorts. “All of this you could’ve figured out.”

“Okay? So what can I tell you to convince you? Ask me something you haven’t told Frisk. Something before we decided to try and find the Underground.”

Aofil shrugs. “I don’t know? I don’t remember anything from that time of my life. Not what was actually real, that is.”

A grunt and a hand thrown up above the smaller human’s head while their eyes roll so hard they almost burrow into the skull summons an angry leer from Aofil. Aofil’s not the one impersonating a dead twin, at the moment, so who is Frisk to talk? Are they just stalling for time so that Aofil won’t make it to the bus? Are they hoping that Aofil might just suddenly bang their head against the wall and forgive everything?

Something’s real fishy here, and Aofil’s not in the mood for jokes. They stand up and push Frisk away. “Good luck with the rest of your life, Frisk.”

“No!” Frisk grabs Aofil’s arm. “Wait! Just… just one more! I promise that you’ll see me as Chara!”

Aofil jerks back their arm. “Do you have any idea how strange that sounds?”

“Imagine how strange it is for me to say it! One more thing, I promise.” Frisk clutches their head. “It’s the only way, Frisk. I told you it would be difficult!”

“Great performance.” Aofil reaches for the door handle. “Sell tickets next time. You’ll make a killing.”

The human again scrambles for Aofil’s arm, and tugs at it. “I’ll tell you what our curse is, Aofil!”

“Ha!” Aofil spins around with their eyes wide and glued towards the brat. “I already know what my curse is. It’s being your twin,” Aofil raises their fingers as quotation marks, “Chara.”

The startled human takes a step back. “W-what?”

Aofil isn’t buying it. “Tickets, Frisk! Backstage pass can be being put on a pedestal by the monsters. At least then those who gets it will have asked for it.”

“IT IS I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, ON THE PHONE! HELLO FRISK, WHAT IS YOUR CONUNDRUM THAT I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, MIGHT HELP YOU WITH!”

From behind the striped back a phone is brought forth. The display has an icon of Papyrus posing heroically above the red ‘Disconnect Call’ button. Speakers are enabled, but Aofil could’ve already guessed that.

After staring at the phone for a couple of silent seconds Frisk brings it up to their mouth. “You know what? Fuck you, Papyrus!”

Aofil’s face turns into stone. The human in front of them shows that the microphone wasn’t muted, knocking any doubts away with a deafening silence. The sound of the call disconnecting doesn’t mask the sound of Aofil’s jaw hitting the floor. With great effort they manage to regain some control of their eyes and tongue. “You’re not Frisk.”

Chara nods, “I’m Chara, your twin. Pretty sure I’ve stirred up quite the scene for Frisk to handle afterwards, but I promised them I’d talk to you, so,” and shrugs with their arms crossed. “If anything this is on you, Aofil.”

“Chara?”

“Yes, my sibling? On second thought, can I just call you Aofil instead, it sounds weird saying ‘sibling’.”

“How?” Aofil needs to lean on a nearby sink. “How are you here? You’re dead.”

“If you could refrain from rubbing it in, please.”

Their brow sink down, like a stone in water. “You killed me.”

Chara breathes in through gritted teeth. “I’m sorry?”

“I need...” Aofil looks around, like they’ve forgot where they are. “I need to sit down.”

Chara motions for a toilet. Aofil nods and heads over to it and sits down with their elbows resting on their legs, and their chin resting on their bundled fists. They sit still and silent for well over a minute before finally blinking and tilting their head towards Chara. “How?”

Chara shrugs. “How what? Gotta be specific.”

Aofil motions up and down Frisk’s body with their hand. Chara looks down, and nods.

“So, I died,” they begin, hesitantly. “You already know how so I’d rather not tell it again, if that’s fine to you. Then Frisk came along,” Chara points towards Frisk’s head, “and I found myself, how to say it, conscious? I don’t remember how I felt while being dead, I just know that I wasn’t aware of it. I suddenly became aware, like throwing an entire ocean worth of ice water over my head. I could think, but it was very quiet, even for me. Another voice was ringing in my, well Frisk’s, head though. Frisk’s voice, their thoughts. I was at the helm, but I wasn’t driving. I was just kinda, there, you know?”

Aofil doesn’t.

“I could hear what they heard, I felt myself saying what they said, and I felt every step and breath they took, but I couldn’t influence them. Like a statue in the corner or something, I don’t know.” Chara throws Frisk’s arms in the air. “All I know for certain is that we were connected. Our souls, we’re merged together.”

Aofil glances down at their own chest.

“Exactly how, I haven’t the foggiest. They have looked at our soul together, spent entire nights trying to twist it around, to find where Frisk ends, and where I begin, but no luck. There’s been nights when Frisk have stayed up until morning just, poking. They tried to find a spot where it didn’t hurt for them, but again, no luck. I wish I could help, but I’m not even backseat driving. I’m like, part of the fuel or something. In the trunk just happy to be there. Kinda...”

Chara sighs through Frisk’s lips. “Anyway, during Frisk’s time in the Underground, I could feel them using me, using my soul. First it was just to not die, but then, we felt the rush of determination.”

They clench Frisk’s fist. “Monster dust running through our fingers, seeing them beg for mercy that never came. My soul reacted, which prompted Frisk’s soul to react, which prompted mine to react, and it just kept going until… We don’t remember who’s soul reacted first, but it doesn’t really matter, since our actions were the same. It continued, we couldn’t stop it. We didn’t want to stop it.”

Frisk’s hand opens up. “Until I’d completely forgotten that I used to be the hope of the Underground. Everything I remembered about the Underground I used to help Frisk find more monsters to kill. Find more monster that would gives us that rush! The monsters could hide, but only briefly. I knew the entire place like the back of my hand, and I used that hand to point Frisk where to go. With every kill it became easier to justify the next, and so much harder to resist the urge. Why should we stop when it felt this good? With every kill I felt more alive too. More determination meant that I could feel more, think more, act more. Frisk and I, we became one. We couldn’t differentiate each other. It was us against the world, and the world was in our way. Asriel wasn’t necessary anymore, Frisk didn’t know who he was, and I just saw him as in our way. I remember him always popping up and pestering us at New Home. He said that he couldn’t feel anything being Flowey, but he sure became mighty scared when he realized he was not necessary any longer.”

Frisk’s eyes turn distant. “Is it...” Chara shakes themselves back, “Is it alright if I skip what happened next? It’s kinda,” and smacks Frisk’s lips while stretching their borrowed cheeks into an uncomfortable smile, “really really horrible to remember. Though, to be fair, it’s not as horrible as what came after.”

Chara turns to the door, as if expecting someone to show up. “A whole mountain of pain. A wall we ran into, and bounced off constantly. We never made it past it. Again, I don’t remember who took the initiative, but sometime after reset number uncountable plus five, we stopped. Dropped the knife, and fell down on our knees. We were tired, drained. No more reserves left. So, we cried. Not that Sans believed us, but still, we cried. Oddly enough, it was at that point I felt the most,” Chara clutches Frisk’s fist over their chest, “alive. Not in a good way though. I realized that this path was finished, that our choices led us to a dead end. Literal dead end, both for Frisk and I, and for the monsters I once was planned to rule.”

The door remains unopened, and Chara turns back to Aofil. “And suddenly, I was in the way. I was the one holding back progress. I didn’t want to throw away everything we did. I was still high off the determination, Frisk’s determination. It wasn’t until they reset, all the way back to the beginning, that I realized what I’d done. I tried to run away, get away from Frisk, but I was stuck. They went through the Underground, without killing, without ever triggering the start of the circle. I mean, they sure did beat up some of the monsters, but never killed any.”

“It wasn’t until after Asriel, after him renouncing me, and after the Barrier broke, and we stood at the cliff’s edge overlooking the same view Asriel and I did when we were fused.” Chara chokes on their words. “It was only then Frisk put their hand over their chest, and forgave me.”

They scoff away the tears. “And from that day forward, I’ve kinda been in the background. Doing all I can to help. It’s barely anything, but I like to believe that some of the things Frisk have done has been because of me. It’s a very greedy view of it all, but I so much want to believe it’s true. It isn’t, but I want it to be.”

Chara drags Frisk’s hands over their face. “I see that you’re confused, Aofil. Don’t worry, So am I. The best guess I have of this whole debacle is this, Frisk and me fused together, but that’s only true for our souls. It’s just magic, not science, if that’s a bit easier for you to understand, Aofil. Basically it means that it’s either Frisk, or me, present. Thing is though, I’m not supposed to be present. Like earlier today, when Frisk almost unwillingly spoke to you.”

“Is that what happened with their headache?”

Chara puts up a pair of citation signs with Frisk’s fingers. “Headache. Yeah, that was me. It’s not that I want to hurt Frisk.” Chara scoffs. “Why would I hurt the only thing keeping me maybe not really alive? No, pretty sure it’s your soul and mine reacting. It is the same one, after all. We’re twins, we share the same soul. I’ve been hazarding a guess that normally it’s not a problem with twins.”

Aofil shakes their head tiredly. “Normally...”

Chara tilts Frisk’s hand towards Aofil. “Exactly, there hasn’t been anything normal with us, ever.”

“It was a bit normal after-”

Chara doesn’t need to hear more. “Pour salt in it, why don’t you, Aofil?”

They lower their head. “Sorry.”

“No it’s,” Chara blows Frisk’s lips, “it’s fine, Aofil. I’ve had some time to accept it.” They pat Frisk’s chest. “Had some help with it too. Frisk has helped me feel alive. Despite, well, me not being.”

Chara rocks back and forth on Frisk’s heels. “And seeing Asriel alive, but not me. It’s,” Frisk’s neck twitches, “it’s a bit strange, to say the least. We were fused together, we died together, but he gets to live again, and not me. I’m just a parasite, not wanting to let go. I can’t let go. I’m possessing Frisk, I’m not alive myself. I’m on life support, literally. I’m being supported by Frisk, and I am supporting them myself. They have it a bit better though, not gonna lie. I’m stuck as a voice inside their head, most of the time less than that. It’s only when my alive twin is near that I panic and hurt the one that’s keeping me alive. Not by anyone of ours choosing, but it is what it is, right? Why should I complain when I already had everything taken away from me? I have a second chance now, right? It’s not really a full chance, but it’s something, right?”

Chara exhales and drags Frisk’s hands over their face, “I’m sorry, it’s just...” and catch a glimpse of their reflection.

It shatters but a moment after.

Chara grunts and clutches Frisk’s twitching hand. “Sorry, Frisk, didn’t mean to do it,” they scoff. “Guess I’m not used to being the one that all the emotion floods into.”

Chara grits Frisk’s teeth through the pain. “Asriel...he’s a bit different now than before, isn’t he? Don’t know why I’m asking you about it, Aofil. Maybe if you had followed me it might’ve been different.”

Chara stares at Aofil, their twin. It doesn’t feel like it though, not in the slightest.

“You’re a bit different now than before too, Aofil, aren’t you? You don’t remember how we felt before I fell. You don’t know me, you’ve only been told about me. Everything I thought was you is gone. You’re not my twin, not really. We both died when I fell.”

Chara uses Frisk’s sweater to dry Frisk’s eyes, but Chara’s tears. “Everyone gets a second chance, a real second chance, another shot at life. Frisk can reset. Asriel came back with the help of you and Frisk, and you, Aofil, you got to live your life without me. Second chances, except me…”

The sweater isn’t enough to soak up the watery eyes. “Because it’s all my fault, isn’t it? I planned for us two to find the Underground. I planned for Asriel and me to fuse.” The tears crash against the broken glass as Chara again throws Frisk’s fist against the mirror. “I did it all for the ones I loved! Why don’t I deserve a second go? Why isn’t that enough? I gave hope to the Underground!”

Heavy breathing bounces across the tiled walls and floor. “Things is though.” Chara rinses off Frisk’s hand under the faucet. The white sink turns crimson underneath the shard ridden hand. “I’ve changed too. I know that it was my fault. I know what I did. I would’ve done it again if I had the choice.” A tired scoff is interrupted by a pained inhale as Chara picks out the shards they can from Frisk’s hand. “I’d make it so you would follow me though, Aofil, of course. We’d sit on each of dad’s shoulders, with Asriel around his neck. We’d have fun poking at Asriel’s muzzle, watching him try and not to tear up. We’d learn about our curse, about magic, together. Would’ve been fun.”

Chara fetches some paper from a nearby dispenser and slowly pats the knuckles on Frisk’s injured hand. “I also know that I have a second chance. I get to see my family everyday. Granted, through the eyes and mind of the other sex than I was born into, but hey, could be worse. I could be dead...for an example. It’s not that big of a deal any longer, the whole gender thing, since I’ve technically been the other sex now for the majority of my life, existence, whatever. Frisk sometimes tries and ask me how I would react to a situation.” Chara chuckles. “I’d answer, if I could. Don’t think I’ve yet to have a different opinion, because again, I’ve been like Frisk enough to have their mindset.”

Chara flashes a smile. “Like I said, I’ve changed too.” They take quick gasp of air to realign themselves. “Anyway, you should’ve seen how mom and dad-”

Chara realizes as they catch a glimpse of Frisk in the cracked glass. “Sorry, Toriel and Asgore. You should’ve seen how they were back then. They stopped attending the nose nuzzle championship because otherwise it wouldn’t be a competition. At least, that’s what they told Asriel and me.”

“How...” Chara shuffles uncomfortably with Frisk’s hand before putting them underneath Frisk’s armpits. “How were they, by the way, after I left?”

Who do they mean? “Our parents?” Aofil asks.

Chara nods hastily. “Yeah.”

“You don’t remember when we talked to them?”

“No?” Chara scratches Frisk’s lobe. “When would’ve I done that?”

“When I fell?” Chara has to remember, right? A strange feeling bubbles inside Aofil. “You told me what happened. After Frisk’s reset? I fell down the hole and almost died. You were there along with mom and dad. We talked. Talked about us, about being twins, and about how you lived with the Dreemurrs.”

Chara tilts Frisk’s head up. “Oh yeah…um...no. That wasn’t me.”

“Okay?” Aofil can’t really say anything else. “Then who was it?”

“Your interpretation of me perhaps? I don’t know.”

“But you told me that you lived with Toriel and Asgore! How could I have known that?”

“Maybe from before the-” Frisk’s body freezes up. “Shit, sorry,” Chara whispers, almost inaudible to Aofil.

Aofil doesn’t like what Chara’s implying, not one bit. “What do you mean by before, Chara?” They stand up very carefully. “Don’t tell me it is what I think it is.”

Chara tries to play it off, “Depends on what you mean?” but they quickly realize that it isn’t working. They fucked up.

“Chara,” Aofil’s head starts spinning. They feel lightheaded, nauseous. “Chara! What do you mean by before?”

Chara sighs and leans back on a sink with Frisk’s arms crossed over their chest. “You know the phrase third time’s the charm?”

No…

“Turns out it’s literal when it comes to the Surface.”


	28. Before the beginning

“How’re you feeling, Aofil?”

Not the best. Far from it, to be honest. Their head is thumping, like it’s being pushed out from inwards. They clutch their head.

“That bad?” Chara rubs Frisk’s forehead. “Hm, this wasn’t supposed to happen. No problem though!” they exclaim in a cheer that’s vastly more afraid than it is happy. “I’ll just have to,” Chara sighs deeply, “tell you all about what happened before so that you don’t descent into those memories and go after us all. Oh well...”

Chara checks their twin to see if it’s bad. They instantly conclude that it is, and again rubs Frisk’s forehead tiredly while sighing through Frisk’s lips. “Aofil, try and think about everything leading up to, but not including when you met the monsters. Does it help?”

Maybe? Aofil’s not sure. Ebott looks way different in their mind. It makes them feel a bit angry. “I don’t know. It’s like a pressure building up inside my brain.”

“How bad?”

“Like a headache is forming.”

“Good, so perhaps it’s not too bad. Just try and keep focus on things before you met the monsters. I’ll just talk about what happened and you can stop me if you feel better? Otherwise we might-” Chara stops mid sentence. ”I know, Frisk,” they whisper to themselves, “but it’s gonna be worse if I don’t. Yes, I know what happened, but it’ll be worse if they slip back. It’s better if I ease them into it. It’s not ideal, but it’s the best choice for us now.”

Chara stands still for a couple of second, before throwing Frisk’s arm out. “Of course it’ll be worse! I can feel that. I don’t want them to go through it more than they have to. We’re supposed to convince them, remember?”

Chara clutches Frisk’s fist. “To be honest, you’d be much better at this than me. No… Well, maybe I’ll have more control now that I’ve talked to them proper, who knows? Oh please, can you think a bit about yourself? You know full well why you’re nice to people, Frisk. You can knock it off with me!”

With a deep sigh Chara pinches the bridge of Frisk’s nose. “I’m...I’m sorry Frisk. I’m not used to this, not used to the emotions. Just one of the million reasons why I shouldn’t be in control here. Besides the biggest reason that it’s been years since I talked with anyone. I’ll try and give Aofil the short version, and if they want to longer one you two can talk it out more? Like I said, maybe I’ll be a bit calmer now that I’ve met them? Maybe you two can actually speak with each other? Come on now, you literally hand waved and gestured everything that happened in the Underground to Aofil. They know how to ask the right questions. I mean, it’s you, right? Shouldn’t be a problem. You’ve done things far more difficult, Frisk.”

A small smirk grows on Frisk’s lips. “Well, tell me the last time whatever any of us had planned panned out the way we wanted it do be? How many times do I have to tell you? I don’t even know why I’m arguing with you at the moment,” but it fades quickly. “Sometimes it panned out for the better, right? Plenty of times! Yes, I know that you know that I’m lying, but I’m not gonna say otherwise, now am I? Of course not! You know me better than that.”

Chara glances over to check on Aofil. Aofil nods carefully, and a bit confused. Chara moves over to the broken mirror. “Yes, and I know you better than that. Just listen, Frisk, you’re not in control any longer. I warned you that this was gonna happen, but you didn’t listen. I’m gonna talk to Aofil about the first reset, and then I’m gonna give you your body back. I’m swimming in your emotions at the moment, and no way am I strong enough for any of them. That is what is going to happen now. You know why? Because this is what happens when you surrender your soul, Frisk. You’re no longer the one making decisions. I’m pulling away the wool from Aofil, and that’s final.”

A small tear forms in Frisk’s eye. “Besides, no way in hell am I going to impersonate you!” Chara glances over to Aofil. “Like I would ever think of stooping so low. For what it is worth, Frisk, I’m sorry for doing this. I’m also gonna apologize for another thing while I still have the chance...”

Chara walks over to another mirror. Frisk’s hands clutch the sink, and Chara has to muster up courage to look at the reflection. They stare deeply into the eyes of the reflection. “Sorry for being here. Sorry for being a leech on your soul. I want to thank you for letting me be here, but I know I shouldn’t. I just,” Chara can’t stand seeing Frisk’s face through Frisk’s eyes, and they avert them, “I just feel like I had to say it out loud. Had to get it out of my system. We’ll get through this now, I promise.”

They sigh again, “Why do still bother to try and lie to you again?” and scoff. “I promise I’ll try and do this as quickly as possible though. That as much I can be truthful about.”

Chara leans over the sink. Eyes and hands clutching with titan like grip. Chara’s breathing turns unstable, and not long after they start sobbing. Heavy gasps follow, but not for very long. Chara tilts Frisk’s head up, and heaves a sigh to banish the emotions. “Again, I am not used to emotions. Not that it will be a problem for long now.”

Chara wipes away the tears with Frisk’s sweater. “Yeah, I know. I’ll stop bringing attention to it from now on. I’ll keep focus.”

With a cleansing splash of cold water Chara turns to Aofil. “Sorry to keep you waiting. So-”

“Wait!” Aofil interrupts, removing one hand from their head. “What was that? Were you talking to Frisk?”

Chara nods. “Yes, I was.”

“But-”

“Aofil,” Chara lowers Frisk’s brow into a serious furrow, “please just be quiet. Frisk’s soul is used to being in control, they are used to being in control. I am not. Every second spent in control my soul is in a state of panic, and that’s an understatement. I know it might seem like I’ve been on top of things here, but the only reason for that is Frisk. We’ve flipped the house upside down to do this, and the less you talk, the less things are gonna fall from the floor and crash against the ceiling. I.e, me. The less I have to focus on that the more I can explain to you.”

“I’m just...”

“Confused? Yeah, I know, and I sympathize, but,” Chara drags Frisk’s hands over their eyes, “I really don’t know how to put this gently, Aofil. Just, shut up. Okay? I know you want answers, I know I’m supposed to convince you to stay, but I’m stretched thin as it is. You and me talking are putting such a strain on Frisk and me that you wouldn’t believe. I’ve already smashed one of Frisk’s hands to try and keep control.”

Aofil’s too familiar with that.

Frisk’s neck twitches violently. “Yes, Frisk, I lied! No, don’t push yourself even further, you might hurt yourself. I’m saying that for you first, and me second. Just be quiet yourself so that I can focus on explaining to Aofil.”

“So,” Chara wipes away some hair from Frisk’s face, “Frisk saved the monsters, Asriel broke the Barrier, you know it all, Aofil, but they didn't meet you at first. You were the second try. We're on the third try now, and it really seems like it is the charm now.”

Aofil’s not sure if they would agree completely on that one.

“Anyway, the first try. Frisk didn't have any clue what to do, nor did any of the monsters. At first, it seemed to be going just fine, but as we later found out, it was because the shock hadn't faded. When it did." Chara blows Frisk's lips. "Ho boy..."

They have to recollect themselves for a bit before continuing. “If you thought the Above Lab incident was bad. Hell, even the riot, then unfortunately I have some bad news.”

Aofil rubs their skull, they feel some stuff start to jumble. Vague thoughts deep inside their mind.

“It was bad, really bad. Like, uproar and riot times ten, if not more, bad. War, war happened.”

It sounds...true?

“We were to slow to integrate, too passive with our resurfacing. More focus was spent on trying to look good for the humans rather than acting good towards the humans. It’s easy to see with the benefit of hindsight, or in this case, a couple of resets, but at the time. At the time it sounded like the best idea to be careful. Can never be too careful, right? Turns out that yes, yes you can be too careful. As we’ve seen from the second and third try, the more the monsters threw their arms out, announcing loudly that they were back, the better things turned out. Above Lab not withstanding.”

“Pun not intended,” Chara adds as they see Aofil clutching their fists. “Being too careful stirred up distrust, fear. Smiles are good and all, but if you don’t know the person behind you kinda revert to seeing the exposed teeth as a threat rather than a friendly gesture. To top it all of, the humans found out about the fallen children before any of the monsters confessed about them. This caused some tensions.”

With a careful bite on Frisk’s tongue Chara exhales to try and calm themselves. “In the same way the war before the Barrier caused some tensions. Since we’d been so passive about ourselves and our relations with the humans, there was no goodwill to fall back on, not like how it was this time around. There were no human friends for the monsters that could take a step back and think. There was no human pillar the monsters could lean on. No adult human, that is. Frisk was there, but it only made things worse since they were a child.”

Chara has to clear Frisk’s throat as their words get stuck. “Frisk was taken away from Toriel and Asgore almost immediately. Placed in the,” Chara lifts Frisk’s hands up, “care,” and bends Frisk’s fingers into quotation marks before shrugging, “of the government. Care is the last words I’d use to describe what went down. Constant questioning, constant prodding of information. All sorts of tests, both medical and psychological, to find out something that they could use to pin at the monsters.”

With a sigh Chara gazes into the distance. “Didn’t help much when Sans kidnapped Frisk, even less so when Frisk actually asked Sans to. It prompted immediate action to investigate the Underground.” They shake Frisk’s head tiredly and almost mumbles the last words. “Didn’t take long for them to find the fallen humans.”

The pounding in Aofil’s head calms down, but it’s not to their relief.

“And then the trial happened. It happened so quick. What did the monsters have as a defense? That Asriel and I attacked a village and that the village defended itself? What was even worse than the monsters not having a defense, was the humans having an ace up their sleeve. The only living relative of the first human to die in the Underground.”

Aofil’s eyes shoot wide open, and Chara’s soft nod confirms their suspicions. Two times… two times they’ve been the same tool.

“But,” Aofil shakes their head, “I didn’t remember you the second time.”

“Your soul did the first time, or at least, that’s what I, sorry, Frisk, could gather. The second time things were different enough that it didn’t apply. You’re familiar with this, Aofil. The memories.”

Aofil raises their eyebrows. “Not because of my own choosing.”

Chara narrows Frisk’s eyes. “You could’ve just left, you know?”

“And look where that got me?” Aofil throws their arms out. “In a bathroom slash sightseeing tour for monsters talking to my dead twin about actions I did that I don’t remember but apparently are important enough to shatter my world view once again!”

Their arms retract back in towards their head as Aofil presses their palms against their skull. “I’m so sick of all of this.”

“Well, I have to continue, Aofil, for your sake.”

Aofil scoffs loudly.

“Good thing that you stopped me though, might be a sign that this is working.”

A hard glare is shoot towards Chara.

“It’s either that, or you descending back into the memories,” Chara defends. “You know I’m speaking the truth. You feel it deep inside you, in your soul.”

Aofil feels it, but it doesn’t mean they’re happy about it. They retract their glare, and Chara nods.

“Don’t think I’m getting any joy out of this, because I don’t. Frisk is struggling not to collapse in tears at the moment, and by extension, me. Whatever the case was that you remembered me, you recalled what happened at our summer home, and in enough detail to worry both Asgore and Toriel, not to mention the human jury. You knew almost more than the monsters did. After that, it was all downhill, more downhill.”

Chara moves Frisk’s arm diagonally down while whistling a descending tone. “Asgore trying to negotiate, Toriel suggesting they just move back to the Underground to work things out, Alphys buckling almost instantly. Just a straight line down until.”

Frisk’s hand opens up quickly as Chara smacks Frisk’s lips. “Poof. No hope remaining. No trust for the humans, no trust from the human, no trust from anyone. Just chaos. Some monsters turned on Asgore, unhappy with his leadership. They were promised to return to the Surface now that the Barrier was broken, but all that happened was that another Barrier was raised. This one was more prominent, believe it or not. Wanna guess why?”

Aofil feels the answer deep inside.

“Because,” Chara points back and forth between them and Aofil, “this one was made out of humans. Angry humans, scared humans. Each one more powerful than the entire monster kingdom combined, but none of them knew that. They only saw the scary magic, and the deaths of the kids. Unfortunately the chants of a thousand protesters was too loud for the lone rational voice to be heard. I say rational, but that would only had been the case if either one of the monsters had played their cards right and actually talked rationally themselves instead of trying to subdue the differences between monsters and humans.”

“And on the front line of the militia was none other than you,” Chara opens up Frisk’s hand and presents Aofil to themselves, “Aofil. Your soul was probably pumping you full of determination with all the magic from the monsters, so there was no stopping you, or the humans around you. I remember Undyne trying to subdue you when you went for either Asgore or Toriel. She was swarmed a second later, and you...”

Chara exhales deeply. “You didn’t have time, because Frisk reset in the last second. Seeing a human go for the kill one second, and then realize that they had to battle Asriel again. Frisk almost gave up there, right on the spot. One more chance though. They convinced themselves to give it one more try. I will never understand how Frisk found strength for that. They wiped their tears and headed up to face the Hypergod for the second time. They won again, had to see Ariel beg them to let him win, again. See him ask Frisk to leave forever, again. Saying the things he did about me…again. Then, when they exited the cave, guess who shows up?”

Chara turns Frisk’s head to Aofil. “Imagine their fear when the first human they saw, was you. Were you here to finish the job? Did you remember anything? I don’t know if you hitting your head knocked some memories away, but Frisk was so relieved you didn’t remember anything. Sans was a bit suspicious as well, but he couldn’t put his finger on why, exactly. Luckily you as a friend was enough of a difference to have Asgore and Toriel remember that they had to be more open, but not exactly why they had to. Lucky balance, I guess. Your shift in team also helped with their memories of the whole ordeal.”

With a pair of lamenting eyes, and a tired tilt of Frisk’s head, Chara sees Aofil press harder and harder against their skull. “But I guess we’re not out of the woods yet with that whole debacle. You feeling any better, Aofil?”

“No.”

“Please don’t tell me it’s getting worse.”

“I don’t know?”

Chara looks around, despite being well aware that the bathroom’s empty besides them and Aofil. Just to extra sure. “Sorry if this might hurt, Aofil, but I have to ask. After you met the monsters, what happened?”

“They...” Aofil stares into a distance. Their head provides too many answers, and none of them feels correct. None of them feel wrong though, but it’s all in pieces. A thought from one direction, but two from another, but three from the first one, but five from another! It’s all a jumble! Nothing makes sense! They’re in their own house, reading about how the monsters have been sighted, but not confirmed.

The monsters are in their living room though. Toriel and Asgore have just come back from meeting the Mayor. They’re not there though, Aofil has never seen the monsters.

Monsters? Like what that list talked about? What was it? Ten signs a monster is here and in your shower? No, that can’t be right.

Or can it?

No, it sounds just as weird as monsters existing.

But they do, Aofil just met some. They just spent two entire days with a whole gang of them!

“Aofil!” Chara claps Frisk’s hands as hard as they can. “Aofil!” they repeat even louder.

Aofil blinks, and the white tiles around them come back into focus. Their head is spinning though, like a centrifuge. Good thing they’re sitting on a toilet. Right now they really-

Chara winces back from seeing Aofil twist around so quick and violently to shove their head inside the toilet bowl. Their even more violent hurling has them covering Frisk’s ear.

Neither one of them wants to hear this.

After a solid minute or ten of constant spewing Aofil slides down onto the bathroom floor exhausted, with barely anything left in them to move around. They fumble the stall wall for some paper, and wipe their mouth with the last energy left.

“Water...” they beg silently.

“Is it black?”

“Water!” Aofil coughs from the strain it takes on their voice.

Chara fetches a plastic cup from a nearby dispenser and fills it up before handing it to Aofil. “Shit, this really wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“When will it stop?” Aofil drinks greedily. “Just...everything.”

Chara’s sinking facial expression worries Aofil. Didn’t they just beg for it to end? “Sorry, Aofil, but you can’t be like this.”

If Aofil had any strength left they’d thrown the water right back into Frisk’s face. They don’t need to be reminded of the blatantly obvious. Please and very much thank you.

“And I don’t want Frisk to reset. Don’t even know if they can. Frisk doesn’t even know.” Chara looks at Aofil with eyes that scream for forgiveness. “I have an idea though, but...”

Oh here we go.

“We need to make your head and soul share the same memories, Aofil. I don’t think we can pull an Asriel on you though. Doesn’t work with me, so that’s clearly evident. The only other way I, or Frisk, know of, is-”

“How about I just leave?” Aofil blurts out.

Frisk’s ears perk, and Chara narrows Frisk’s eyes. “What?”

Aofil throws up their arm, but it comes crashing back down almost instantly. “How about I just get out of here and never think about monsters again? The memories trigger when they become somewhat relevant, so I’ll just get away from it all.”

Chara’s not sure if Aofil’s joking. “Like how you did after you brought back Asriel?”

Aofil tries to summon enough strength to lift their finger, but it fails. They can only tilt their head in the brief period they’re not gasping for air. “Fuck you...”

“That’s your old memory talking.”

No, it’s not!

Or is it?

Aofil crawls in a panic up to the bowl again, and just barely manages to get their mouth over the porcelain edge with the help of Chara. Only a handful of hurls happen, but it’s a handful way too much.

“You think you can move away from anyone talking to you ever again, Aofil?”

God.

Fucking.

Dammit.

Gently, Chara eases Aofil back down onto the tiles. “Listen, I do have an idea. The discrepancy is between your soul and mind, so we have to close it. The simplest way is to transfer the memories into your mind.”

Aofil’s already shaking their head, but Chara’s not gonna stop. If there was another way they would, but...

“We’ll have to get you a memory box.”


	29. One side of the coin

"When I say we," Chara flusters, "I actually mean Frisk and you, Aofil. I've been," they look down and run Frisk's hands over the striped clothing, "keeping their body away from them for far too long now. Pretty sure they’re eager to get it back."

Chara makes their way around to another stall. From the gap between the wooden wall and the tiled floor Aofil sees Chara go down on Frisk's knees just in front of the toilet. They tilt Frisk's head down underneath the gap. "Could you come over here, Aofil? I don't know how bad Frisk is gonna feel when they return, so if you could keep an eye on them while we switch places, please."

"I haven't even agreed to the whole memory box thing, you know?"

Chara shrugs. "It was Frisk's idea to give me a shot and talk to you, but if it doesn't work, then I'd rather they have their body back as quickly as possible. You and Frisk can argue about the memory box, I’m not needed for that. I know you’re not in the best and most generous mood right now, Aofil, but Frisk doesn’t have to hurt, right? They’re still just a kid. Like me, I guess..."

Rub that onion in, why don’t you, Chara? But they’re right, if they’re speaking the truth, that is. Aofil’s not feeling sick thinking about it, so either their stomach is completely empty to the point of death, or Chara is telling the truth.

The slow yet steady pulsating aching coming in from everywhere inside Aofil’s body is evidence enough that they’re alive, so guess it’s option two. With a heavy grunt Aofil reaches for the toilet lid and puts it down. It helps them to stand up, and they don’t have to look at their innards floating gently inside the bowl, which is always a plus.

Aofil’s vision blurs a bit when they stand up, but blood soon reaches up to their head, and their vision comes back. They flush the toilet while wiping their mouth. The water Chara fetched didn’t help as much as Aofil wanted to, and they rinse out their mouth after washing their hands. In the mirror above the sink they meet a pale face with eyelids hanging heavy over a pair of tired eyes.

“You,” Aofil sees Chara turning Frisk’s head around in the reflection, “you coming?” Chara asks during this awkward angle between them and Aofil.

Aofil meets Frisk’s eyes in the mirror, “Yeah,” and walks over to the hunched over human. “I’m here. Go ahead.”

“We’ve already done something that shouldn’t be done, with me taking over, so I haven’t the foggiest what will happen when Frisk comes back. Just be ready in case Frisk’s body reacts violently, alright?”

Aofil nods.

Chara nods as well, and turns Frisk’s head back over the porcelain bowl. They collect a careful breath, “Alright. It was nice talking to you, Aofil,” and scoff lightly, “despite everything. Too bad we didn’t have time to talk about us and our...family. I want to say that I never forgot about you, but you know, then I’d be lying again.”

Aofil can’t muster up another nod to agree.

“That’s fair,” Chara sighs, “that’s fair… Can’t have everything in the world. I mean, a hug would be nice, but it would just be awkward for the two of us if I asked, right?”

Frisk’s head is gently tilted, but is quickly returned back to the bowl. “I’ll spare you, Aofil. By the way, don’t cry for me, please, not that I think that you would to begin with. As you’ve probably noticed, I’m not so good with being the face for Frisk and I. Don’t think I’ll ever be. I’ve kinda gotten used to just spectating. It might go without saying, but please don’t say anything to anyone else, Aofil. If it’s revealed that Frisk is housing me as well.”

Chara shakes Frisk’s head. “We got lucky that the Above Lab just came and went, so to speak. Who knows what can of worms that would’ve been opened if it kept on?”

“I’d rather not think about it,” sighs Aofil.

“Probably for the best, what with it all coming out of left field and almost ending it right there. You’ll keep quiet though? About me? Sorry for insulting you by asking, but I just want to hear it.”

“Chara...” Aofil reminds.

“Yeah, sorry. It feels a bit weird, all of this. Thinking about taking control was a whole other story back when-”

“Chara,” Aofil reminds again.

“It’s hard, sorry. Giving Frisk back their body, it’s what I should do, it’s what I want to. I won’t die, and I’ll be with Frisk as long as they allow me to. I don’t want to die, but I also don’t want to be a burden on Frisk. By the way, if you decide to stay, could you keep an eye on them for me, Aofil? A favor between siblings?”

Aofil doesn’t move an inch of their face.

“I’m dragging this out...” Chara narrows Frisk’s eyes. “I mean, can you blame me? It’s been a while since I actually spoke to someone and-”

“Chara,” Aofil reminds, again.

They close Frisk’s eyes, “Yeah, sorry,“ and breathe out slowly. “Take care, Aofil.”

“You too.” Aofil knows they’re being too generous, but if they’ve already agreed to not let it hurt for Frisk, then extending the offer to Chara isn’t the biggest stretch.

It’s quiet. Apart from some light breathing from both Aofil and Frisk, it is dead silent, but only for a short moment. Just a few seconds pass before Frisk’s body flies up on its feet. Aofil takes a step back, but steps forward with their hands at the ready to catch Frisk should they fall. Frisk stares at their own hands, clutching them slowly. They turn slowly around, staring through Aofil.

Aofil takes a step to the side, and Frisk meets their own reflection.

“No!” Frisk clutches their head. “Where are you?”

Aofil stares at the panicked human clutching its head. “Is Chara gone?”

“No!”

“How’re you feeling, Frisk?”

“Frisk is gone!”

Frisk is-

“What!” Aofil coughs out violently.

“Frisk is gone!” Chara pats Frisk’s body. “I can’t give them their body back! Why are they silent?”

Aofil grabs Frisk’s shoulder. “Where’s Frisk?”

“I don’t know!” Chara snaps Frisk’s head up to Aofil. “They’re gone! I can’t hear them. I can’t feel them! No. No! Why did I agree to this? What have I done?”

Chara rushes over to the nearest sink and grabs hold of the mirror. “Where are you, Frisk? Talk to me! Where are you?” They search the reflection for any indication of Frisk, the smallest hint of something they can’t control. “Talk to me! Please! It’s your body! Take it back!”

But nobody came.

Chara digs Frisk’s hands deep into the sharp sides of the mirror. “Frisk!” Chara yells into the mirror. “Come back! It’s your body! It’s your life! Come back, please!”

But nobody came.

“Frisk, you can’t be doing this! Don’t hide from me!” With a vicious tug Chara rips off the mirror from the flimsy plastic clamps holding it in place. “I need you! Everyone needs you! Where are you?”

The reflection stays angry. It stays confused. It stays on the brink of tears. It shakes just like the hands holding it does. Violently. There is no one else, there is only Chara.

So nobody comes.

“No...”

It’s silent.

“No!”

The mirror slides out of the quivering hands.

“No! No! No!”

And smashes against the solid tile floor. The shards crunch underneath Frisk’s knees as Chara falls down on them again. They clutch Frisk’s chest with one hand, “I know you’re in here, Frisk!” and follows it up with Frisk’s other hand. “Come back!”

A crimson light, a more distinct red than Aofil has ever seen, floods the white bathroom, turning it a hue that’s like hellfire. Chara stares at the hovering heart that Frisk’s hands are caressing. Their breathing increases, causing the heart to beat faster and faster.

“Frisk!” Chara screams into the heart. “Talk to me! I know you’re in there! Come back!”

But nobody ca-

“Come back to me!!!”

With a pained howl Chara crushes the heart, but it only causes their howl to shriek louder. They immediately release it as they fall over in tormenting agony. Chara falls down on the tiled floor with a heavy thud. The sound barely has time to echo once in the hollow room before it’s drowned out by pained sobs, interrupted by wails of dread.

“Where are you?”

No answer.

Chara’s tears flood the crevices between the tiles. Like blood it almost runs like an orthogonal river. Long slick shadows dance around the walls as Frisk’s fingers shudder with every sharp gasp that Chara takes to replenish Frisk’s burning lungs.

“Where have you gone?”

No answer.

“What have I done?”

Chara clutches the red soul again, but it only causes them to convulse violently.

“Why?”

They grasp the soul again, and again they roar in pain.

“Why!”

“Chara!” Aofil can’t just stand by and watch. “You’re hurting Frisk! Their body!”

“I’m…?”

The red fades from the room, and Frisk’s body collapses on the floor. Aofil bends over quickly to help, if they even can. The soul is no longer out, and Frisk’s chest is expanding and contracting, albeit very reservedly. Aofil turns them around so that they’re laying on their side.

“Frisk...” Chara whispers.

Aofil sits down on the closest toilet. They run their hands over their face.

Quiet and exhausted sobs echo throughout the stalls. Chara tucks Frisk’s arms and legs together, balling up into a bundle of trembling limbs and soft weeping.

“I’ve killed them...”

Aofil lifts their eyes up from the ground to the lamenting human sobbing with every sharp breath. Did they?

“Frisk…where are you?”

“You sure they’re gone?” Aofil asks carefully.

Chara’s glare is vicious, hateful, and filled with sorrow. “Of course I know! I’ve been with them for as long as I can remember, Aofil! It’s quiet! It’s so,” Chara can barely finish their sentence as the words lodge inside their throat, “quiet. They’re not here.”

With a pained cough Chara returns to squeezing Frisk’s arms and legs together.

“I’m a parasite without a host.”

“Chara.”

“I am!” Chara yells, breaking Frisk’s voice in the process. “I’ve killed the one that kept me alive!” they continue to yell despite the words barely escaping. They dry heave from the pain, and immediately return to sobbing.

“Chara,” Aofil tries again, “you need to calm down. You’re not gonna bring back Frisk by puking their guts out in grief.”

“B-but.”

“You squeezed your own soul, Chara. If that didn’t bring Frisk back then no pain will.” Aofil takes a knee next to Chara, being careful not to hit any glass. “Calm down, get some air in Frisk’s lungs so that you can think clearly. Here,” Aofil puts their arms under Frisk’s, “stand up.”

Frisk is heavy, and Aofil almost strains their back getting Chara up on Frisk’s feet. Carefully, Aofil brushes off Frisk’s back. Small shards of glass hit the tile floor like wind chimes.

“Drink some water,” Aofil suggests, and Chara obeys with no objection. They drink, and drink, and drink. Chara only stops to gasp for air. After what seems like a solid minute they stop the faucet and catch their breath completely.

“All your emotions, Frisk.” Chara meets Frisk’s face in the mirror. “Please, take them back,” they beg.

But nobody came.

Chara sighs deeply. “Fuck.”

Trying to ignore hearing Frisk swear, Aofil locks eye contact with Chara through the mirror. “Let’s see if we can figure this out.”

“I...” Chara clutches the sink with Frisk’s hands.

“Being angry won’t bring Frisk back, Chara.”

“It brought me back down in the Underground!” Chara turns with a stare that as sharp as a knife. “So why shouldn’t it work with Frisk now? What do you know about any of this, anyway! You’ve done everything in your power not to learn anything about magic!”

“Don’t put this on me, alright?” Aofil puts their foot down almost literally. “Don’t do something stupid now. You’re filled with emotions you yourself say you can’t control, Chara. Don’t lash out on me just because I’m the only one that’s with you. You’ll do something you’ll regret,” Aofil tucks at their shirt over their fur, “and you won’t bring Frisk back that way.”

“Ha!” Chara massages Frisk’s throat after almost coughing their innards out. “So pray tell, how do you know that?”

Aofil hardens their eyes. “And how do you know it will?”

Chara returns an even harder stare, “I know it worked with me! Maybe if I,” they keep it while hovering their hand over Frisk’s chest, “maybe if I get us some more determination? Maybe Frisk needs it to wake up, just like I did?”

“Chara,” Aofil moves themselves carefully around to block the front door, “calm down. Sit yourself down for a minute or so.”

“We can do this again,” Chara bends down, and picks up a large shard of glass, “and we’ll do it better.”

Chara digs Frisk’s other hand deep into their chest. “I just have to bring you back, Frisk. Bring you back so that we can become we again.”

Aofil’s eyes burst wide open as they see Chara steadily clench the glass shard. “Chara! Don’t!”

“Bring you back, by going back.”

No. Aofil won’t manage another reset. Won’t manage going through everything again! No! Not again!

“Chara!” they plead. “Chara, please don’t! Frisk wouldn’t want you to do this.”

“And how,” Chara snaps Frisk’s head towards Aofil, “would you know?”

“Chara, you’re drowning in Frisk’s emotions right now. Hell, not even Frisk’s, they’re yours now. You don’t want to reset, that much I know. Just please, calm down for just a moment so that you can think through your emotions.”

“I’m...” Chara releases the grip they forced on Frisk’s chest. “I...”

With a panicked sprint Chara rushes inside a stall. The glass in their hand falls and shatters against the solid floor. Violent spewing soon fill the acoustic room, but to Aofil it’s like relieving music. They lean back on the front door, and exhale loudly. They look at their hand. It’s shaking. It was close, even if Chara couldn’t reset, it was too close.

Aofil joins Chara in the stall after having regained some composure. They meet Chara with Frisk’s arms laying heavily on the rim of the bowl, bent so that the forearms holds up the moaning head. There’s no way that there’s any strength left to be angry in that body. Chara spits, and it lands on something more viscous than water. If Aofil hadn’t already vomited themselves dry before they’d feel sick at the sight of it all.

“Here,” Aofil again lifts Chara up, and leads them over to a sink. They help Chara wash away the last spots surrounding Frisk’s mouth, and fills up a cup of water for Chara to drink.

“Thanks,” Chara whispers.

“You feel well enough to try and figure something out?”

“No,” Chara quells a burp, “but the quicker I get Frisk back the quicker I’ll stop feeling this sick.”

That’s one way to think of it. Aofil flushes the toilet and waits for it to refill before leaning back against the sink adjacent to Chara. “Still can’t feel Frisk?”

Chara shakes Frisk’s head. “Nope, it’s dead quiet.”

“How about we try and not use that word?”

Chara agrees with a nod.

“Can we use the soul extractor?” Aofil suggests.

“How about we try and not use that word too?”

Aofil agrees with a nod.

“Maybe we can try the memory box with you?” Aofil suggests again. “If it’s enough to summon Asriel’s memory from when he fused with me it should be able to summon some of Frisk’s memories? Perhaps then they’ll wake up?”

Chara shakes Frisk’s head. “Only works on monsters.”

“No?” Aofil taps their chest. “It worked with me?”

“It worked with Asriel, not you. The piece of his soul that was in you worked as an adapter, so to speak,” Chara explains before taking another mouthful of water. They swallow it slowly before continuing. “Us humans need way more magic than what the memory box can produce.”

Aofil’s not entirely convinced. “Ok?”

“Frisk already tried before to try and extract me. Didn’t work. You still have Asriel inside you, so that should work again.”

Aofil’s arm starts itching. “Word travels fast.”

Chara retorts by shaking Frisk’s head again. “No, I’ve known for a while. I’ve also been fused with Asriel, remember? I know how his magic feels.”

“And me?”

“Well, you and I have the same soul, and-” Chara drops the empty cup of water, and stares through Aofil, all the way into a far away distance.

“Chara?”

“Shh!” Chara hushes Aofil. They bob Frisk’s heads slowly as they think. After a minute or so, Chara meets Aofil’s eyes again. “It might work!” A smile grows rapidly on Frisk’s lips. “It might work! Let’s go!”

Chara takes off towards the door. Where, when, and how, did they find the energy to do that?

“Wait!” Aofil stops Chara by grabbing Frisk’s arm. “How would what work?”

“The memory box! It might work for me! The reason it doesn’t work with humans is that it can’t get a grip on our magic since it’s too hidden away inside our souls. Monster are made out of their soul, and we’re just hosts for ours. That much you know, right?”

Aofil nods reluctantly. Just because they know it doesn’t mean they’re eager to accept it.

Chara only sees the nod though, and Frisk’s face lights up even brighter. “So if you first use the piece of Asriel you have in yours the memory box might be able to hook onto Asriel’s soul again, and use it to reach your soul, just like it did before. Since our souls are the same, we might be able to then have me use it with Frisk.”

In the corner of their eye, Aofil catches themselves in a mirror with a very disbelieving expression on their face. “Alright?”

“I’ll explain on the way to the skeletons.” Chara leans down on the door handle while beckoning for Aofil to follow. “Hopefully I can fetch it without Sans-”

A sharp pain flashes through Aofil’s head. “Fuck!” They clutch it and fumble for a nearby sink to brace on so that they don’t fall.

“Or that...” Chara looks to the side, away from Aofil gritting their teeth against the pain, and out towards the parking lot. “Sorry.”

The pain fades away, but the shock from it still lingers. “God damn.” Aofil takes some steadying breaths. Luckily it seems to help.

“And apparently you also missed your bus, Aofil.”

God damn.


	30. Waiting to go

"Or not?"

"What?" Chara looks over to the bus Aofil's pointing at standing in idle the end of the lot. They shake Frisk’s head. "No, that one's going the other way. Towards..."

Aofil catches the name on the sign at the front of the bus.

“Mt Ebott.”

They also catch Chara with Frisk's palms together over their face. Chara takes a deep breath, and exhales with the wind. "Yeah, that way."

Aofil nods. "Does that one also have sections for-" Their head jerks to the side at the pain building up inside their skull. "Them?"

"Yes, actually," Chara answers while keeping Frisk's head away from the bus, "they were the monsters that Frisk left with, the first monsters back on the Surface. So, naturally, we should plaster their faces all over!” Chara caresses Frisk’s head tiredly with an equally tired sigh. “Sometimes even I’m baffled by the monsters. Good thing it’s mostly the cross city buses left with that kind of advertising, and they’re about to be phased out. Thankfully.”

Chara beckons for Aofil to follow them, and the two humans head towards the local section of the bus terminal. As they pass the ticket booth the monster inside folds together the newspaper it was reading and greets first with a smile, but then with a worried frown.

The monsters leans out its eyes out the ticket booth, and then swivel them to Aofil. “You missed your bus.”

Aofil is forced to put on a smile. “Yes,” they nod, “it appears I did.”

The monster moves its eyes around Aofil. A bit too close for their taste, but the monster pays no mind, since it can’t see Aofil leaning away as much as they possibly can. “Did something go wrong in there?” the monster asks, indicating towards the bathroom with a claw. “Sorry if that’s too personal a question for you humans.”

“No,” Aofil lies, “that’s fine. Just human business.”

“Unfortunately you did forego the option for a refund, I’m afraid.” The monster returns its eyes to its body with an audible slurp. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Yes, actually,” Aofil glances down towards Chara, “Right?”

Chara nods. “We need to head to Royal Street, please.”

“Frisk!” The monster in the ticket booth fumbles with its hat before managing to stick a claw through the top and take the hat off its head. “My apologies, I didn’t see you. How can I help the child of the Royal Couple?”

Chara needs a quick elbow from Aofil to be able to shake off the words that suddenly grip them like an invisible hand. They flub trying to form something to say. “Yes...”

“They’re a bit tired,” Aofil steals the attention of the monster by stepping in front of Chara, “but yes, I guess one adult ticket that can take me to Royal Street? I’m also guessing Frisk already has a pass.”

“Y-you’re going to see the Royal Couple, right?”

“Yes,” Aofil lies, “we are.”

“Then you’re a guest of them, correct?”

“You could say that.”

The monster lights up. “Ah, then I’m sure that Asgore-”

Aofil doesn’t manage to suppress their pained grunt. They motion for the monster to continue though. “It’s fine.”

The monster isn’t convinced, but still continues. “I’m sure you’ve been cleared as a Royal Guest, so public transportation should be free for you. As long as you have the card, that is.”

Well shit.

“And if I don’t?”

The monster points towards Chara. “Frisk should be able to vouch for you then. The bus departs at spot ‘H’ down the lot. There’s a stop at Royal Street, so you shouldn’t miss it.”

Aofil nods as thanks for the information, and ushers Chara towards the spot the monster pointed towards. The lot is still somewhat empty, much to Aofil’s delight. There are monsters waiting at other stops, but Aofil should be able to position themselves so that Chara stays out of sight. Having Chara around is bound to raise questions, so the less anyone sees of them the better.

No to mention that Chara, who is not Frisk, is Frisk. If what just happened at the ticket booth is any indication, then this might be a bit tricky.

“Squint when people get close, Chara,” Aofil suggests while leaning against the glass wall of the bus shelter so that they’re covering the view of Chara from that angle. “Or do you want me to say ‘Frisk’ instead?”

Chara shrugs as they sit down on the bench next to the bus stop. “I’d rather stick with Chara when we’re alone. Not entirely comfortable pretending to be them. Feels as if I’m violating their personal space.”

Aofil smacks their lips and tugs a smile. “Yeah.”

“Very much aware of the borderline hypocrisy, thank you very much. What with me being in control of Frisk’s body and everything, thank you even more much, Aofil. Good on you for reminding me.” With a last flail of Frisk’s wrist Chara crosses Frisk’s arms over their chest. “Seems like impersonating monster adopted human children runs in the family.”

“I only did it to try and help,” Aofil reminds with a weary sigh. “Would’ve done differently if I had the luxury.”

“Same here. I’m already dreading having to talk to Sans. He’s bound to pick up that something’s amiss. Hopefully just amiss, and not extremely wrong.”

“You want me to do the talking?” Aofil offers. “Frisk have never spoken to me before today, so we might be able to use that to our advantage.”

“Hopefully.” Chara stares into the setting sun. “Hopefully...”

“You sure he has a memory box?”

“The,” Chara corrects, still with Frisk’s eyes towards the orange horizon.

“There’s only one?”

Chara nods.

“That’s strange,” Aofil tilts their head down in thought. It hurts a bit to think about it, but they’re pretty sure they’re remembering correctly. “The turtle, what was his name?”

Frisk’s brow furrows involuntarily. “Gerson?”

“Yes, Gerson. I visited him when I was in the Underground for the first time. Was it the first time? Did I go down there during the first reset?”

Chara shrugs deeply. “How should I know? I only saw it through Frisk’s eyes, not yours.”

“Fair.” Aofil returns to thinking for a minute or so, but to no avail. “Anyway, he used it on me, after telling me that he got one of many.”

“He did?” Frisk’s brow furrows. “Must’ve been your broken soul. Easier to influence, I guess, being broken and all. A bit curios why he said there were more than one though.”

“Thank you for reminding me about my broken soul,” Aofil says with sarcasm drooling from every pore.

“Makes us even,” Chara retorts. “To my, and Frisk’s, knowledge, there is only one memory box, and it’s with Sans. If there were more...” Chara widens Frisk’s eyes and blows through Frisk’s lips. “Then all hell would’ve broken loose. How did Gerson even get hold of it?”

“He said he got it from the wedding or something?”

“Wedding?” Chara thinks for just a split second before realizing, “Oh,” and uncrosses Frisk’s arms in bewilderment. “Oh!”

Aofil looks over their shoulder to check if two humans together in an almost vacant bus lot is still as uninteresting to the monsters as it was a couple of minutes ago. It seems to be the case, as the monsters waiting on the other stops are busy with themselves and their phones. “Is it bad that he had one?” Aofil asks Chara, who’s now almost falling off the bench in silent fear.

“Do you know what the memory box actually is?”

Aofil never had time to ask, so, “No.”

Chara prepares themselves. “Think of it as a test for the soul extractor. A prototype. The first machine that could store a part of a soul. Gaster invented it to test if it was even possible.”

Gaster, who? “Who?”

“Gaster,” Chara repeats. “Royal Scientist before Alphys?”

Aofil shakes their head. “Not a clue.”

“Okay, Gaster was the Royal Scientist before Alphys,” Chara explains quickly.

“Alright.”

“He invented, and fell into the CORE, and died.”

Aofil didn’t really need to know that. “Alright.”

“He made plans for the soul extractor, and also made the memory box.”

“Alright!” That’s enough for Aofil. “Why did he do that?”

Chara smacks Frisk’s lips. “Because of me. He was appointed to soul research after Asriel and I died.”

Just keeps getting better, doesn’t it! Aofil nods while averting their eyes. “Gotcha.”

“He managed to get a memory box working, like I said, and it seems like Gerson was a test subject for it. Would explain his hazy memory.”

“I mean,” Aofil shrugs lightly, “isn’t Gerson incredibly old?”

Chara stops in their thinking. “True...but it would also explain why he had the box in his possession to begin with. Gaster and Gerson worked close to Asgore, and I’m pretty sure they had some form of friendship. I didn’t meet Gaster much after I fell down. He was not really the most social one, always in the CORE. Him working on the memory box would explain his sudden interest in Gerson, now that I think about it. One of the oldest monsters, who’s soul is one of the fullest of memories.”

“How do you know this?”

“About the memory box?” Chara replies, but they soon realize that there’s no way Aofil could possibly mean anything else. “Well, you remember when you were down in the True Lab? Remember carefully, so that you don’t hurt yourself. There were signs with notes?”

“Can’t remember that there were any notes.” Aofil thinks for a couple more seconds. “No, no notes. Just something about it being deleted.”

“Gaster also kept notes, but his were in the CORE. It’s where he worked. Frisk found it with Sans. I may or may not have helped them. I tried, but I don’t know if Frisk heard me.”

“When did Frisk do that?”

“Around the time that Above Lab was beginning construction. At first Frisk just wanted to learn more so that maybe they could help with the construction, but they learned a bit more than what they wanted. The True Lab had barely sunk in for them, so it was a bit uncomfortable to learn about the memory box too, to say the least.”

“Fun stuff.”

“No need to lie, Aofil.”

Chara’s got Aofil there.

“So this Gaster made the memory box, and the soul extractor? With one of his fellow monsters as a test subject? That sounds a bit morbid.”

“Well,” Chara throws Frisk’s thumb over Frisk’s shoulder, “you know all about Alphys’ research. Hard choices had to be made after Asriel and I died. Desperation can do a lot once you get it rolling.”

“Like offering control over your own body to a human who’s only a piece of soul inside you to try and talk to said soul’s alive twin?”

“That’s...” Chara tugs Frisk’s head to a tilt, and then back up again, “oddly specific, but yes.”

Aofil glances over to the setting sun, squinting at the intensity of it. “I mean that much to them? I mean that much to the monsters?”

“Yup,” Chara nods solemnly to themselves, “you do. Wouldn’t risk this,” they motion up and down Frisk’s body with a forlorn hand, “otherwise. If only you could understand, Aofil.”

“Yeah,” Aofil mirrors Chara’s nod, “if only I could.”

It has to go both ways though. The monsters have to understand Aofil, otherwise Aofil can’t allow themselves to even consider. To top it all off they’re now under the same affliction they sacrificed so much to save the monsters from. If they could they’d slap themselves before they stepped on that bus yesterday. They went right back to the monster’s den, and literally as well!

And even worse…

Aofil angles their fur stained arm upward.

Even worse is that they’ve lost something to blame it on. Aofil’s lost the one thing they could point to and offload their problems onto. Now with it gone, they’re not sure if they can shoulder the weight.

Why are they staying though? Why are they agreeing to this? If they just leave and distance themselves from all magic it should be enough to not have their memories flare. If it was a valid option before, it should be a valid option now. There’s bound to be buses that are headed to somewhere that’s not Mt. Ebott. Should just take one and be done with all of this.

But Aofil doesn’t move.

Why? Why aren’t they moving? Frisk will come back, because it’s probably Aofil keeping them away. Chara could be holding Frisk back to garner sympathy from Aofil too. Hell, it could just be Frisk pretending to be Chara. Frisk can swear, Frisk can be mean. They’re human, not an angel.

So why is Aofil still here?

They swivel their head towards Chara, sitting quietly with Frisk’s arms crossed over Frisk’s chest. If anyone is none the wiser that it is Frisk’s body they’d think it is Aofil’s kid.

Aofil turns away their head.

Here they go again, sympathizing instead of trying to distance themselves which was their plan.

Why can’t they leave well enough alone? Alone without magic, alone without memories, alone without monsters putting all their bets on Aofil. Looking up to a human they just stumbled across to help them with everything.

What did Aofil get in return?

They got their twin back… Not that Aofil can remember their twin. No memory, no recollection.

And that’s the only positive they can think of. The rest that could be slightly positive is hurting their head!

So

Why

Are

They

Not

Moving?

An audible, but involuntary, huff escapes Aofil. Chara looks over. “You alright?”

“No...”

Chara returns Frisk’s eyes to the sunset. “Sucks.”

“Yup.”

They truly are an idiot.

“Still alone, by the way?”

Chara closes Frisk’s eyes for a moment. “Yup, still alone.”

Aofil glances over to the time table, shouldn’t be too long until the next bus comes. They sit down next to Chara. “’Royal couple’ seems to works.”

“What?”

“’Royal Couple’, the ticket booth monster said it, and it didn’t hurt.”

“They’ve never been a couple to you, so figures you wouldn’t react. Might want to not think about how they are now though.”

Aofil’s not sure. “Are they really it now?”

With a furrowed brow Chara tilts Frisk’s head, “What?” but a second later they realize what Aofil means. “Oh! Yeah, yes and no. Or, to be more specific, no and yes.”

“Alright?” Aofi’s head shakes on its own as even their spinal chord is confused.

“They live together in the same house, but they’re not together. It’s…” Chara shuffles uncomfortably around, “weird. I’d say complicated if I knew more, but I don’t.”

“Does Frisk know?”

“They don’t want to admit it.”

“Asriel?”

“Frisk haven’t asked.”

“Why are they living together then? Just for show?”

“To be honest?” Chara nods once. “Mostly. They don’t hate each other, but they’re not clinging over one another either. It’s like their relationship is in this state of, how to say it, like a caramel filled chocolate bar without any caramel inside.”

Chara holds Frisk’s open palm towards Aofil, who blinks quietly. They don’t find a connecting thread though. “Do you want another minute to expand on that analogy, Chara?”

“Say that you buy a caramel filled chocolate bar, but then when you bite down on it it’s hollow. I grew up with it being filled with caramel, but right now it’s just the shell. It’s not entirely gone, but the gooey and succulent filling is gone. They both have done taken this whole ‘New Chapter’ spiel to soul, Asg-” Chara halts Frisk’s tongue just in time.

“Thanks.”

“He took it straight away,” Chara continues, “but for her, it took a little while longer. He had a chance to be the one that she fell in love with again, and he took it. He’s been the king he was before, you know.”

Aofil does. “Yes.”

“Asriel definitely helped as well. He, as in Asriel he, not as in he he, gave them both a common ground to build on. I don’t know if the two of them have talked about it, but Frisk hasn’t heard anything, and they’re too nice to ask. Live and let live in the household, basically. Everyone involved knows what it feels like when a house of card topples, so none are too eager to push the question.”

“Fair enough, I guess.”

The bus comes into view shortly after, and Aofil motions for Chara to squint.

“I can see surprisingly well,” they comment after an inquisitive hum.

Aofil hushes Chara as the bus rolls up to their stop. The doors are opened, and the bus driver glances over. “Frisk!” The driver fumbles with his hat. “A pleasure to drive you today, Frisk.”

Chara nods towards Aofil.

“Ah yes, and your human companion.”

Despite being behind Chara, Aofil still notices them tugging Frisk’s lips into a smile. Not a friendly one though, an amused one. Aofil gently pokes the back of Frisk’s leg with their knee so that Chara gets a move on, and the two of them find an empty pair of seats.

Aofil feels eyes in their neck, torso, legs, everywhere, as the murmur of monster whispers surround them. Chara’s not too pleased with the situation, but the whispers seem to be content with conversing about the two humans that just entered, and not with the humans that just entered.

Chara looks out the window, and when the first shadow passes and darkens the window so that Frisk’s face is seen in the reflection, they turn their head away with a sigh.

Monsters come, monsters go, as the bus stops on its journey through the Monster City. The constant influx of new monsters means that the whispering stays constant, but Aofil forces their mind to regard it as just white noise, and they pay no attention to what the monsters have to say. The only word they pick up is when the speaker system informs that, “Up next, ‘Royal Street’!” with a robotic voice not unlike Mettaton. It’s clearly not him though, as the announcement wasn’t accompanied by either confetti and or strobe lights.

The whispers follows Chara and Aofil out, but disappear when the bus door closes behind them.

Royal Street.

Back again, after promising never to return. Aofil takes a long and deep breath. The street is quiet, no one’s outside despite the nice sunset bathing everything in a glistening orange glow. Weather might be nice outside, but inside? Probably overcast with heavy rain and sulking thunder.

“Let’s get this over with,” Aofil proposes and heads in the direction of the only house that could belong to the skeletons.

Chara follows them closely behind. “This might go without saying, but I’m gonna keep quiet for as much as I can. We have a reason for me to, and the less I say, the less Sans gets wiser.”

No disagreement there.

Aofil’s distrustful of the doorbell at the door since it’s clearly connected to a buzzer designed to mildly shock anyone naive enough to press it. Aofil knocks three times on the door instead and backs off.

“What if Papyrus opens?” Chara whispers.

“He’s busy.”

“You sure?”

“Unless the world somehow got a lot smaller.”

Hazy and dragging footsteps close in from inside, and Aofil steps back to let the door swing open. It opens slowly, with Sans standing in a pair of bunny slippers. He looks up and down Aofil, and raises one eye socket.

“didn’t i tell you to stop being so dramatic, aof?”


	31. An old acquaintance

"or did frisk manage to talk you through all of this?"

Sans closes the door behind Aofil and Chara. The humans trade worried glances, but nod to each other to keep going. They just need to convince Sans to lend them the memory box, that's all.

Aofil takes a steadying breath.

That's all...

"what was that?"

Aofil turns their head around. "What was what?"

Sans points a finger and a lowered brow towards Aofil. "you just collected yourself. why?"

"It's been a pretty rough day today." Aofil throws a hand up. "So, you know..."

"from what i heard you kinda made the rough part yourself." Sans heads over to the sofa and sinks down in it. "if only you had listened to your 'ol pal sans.”

The silence is deafening.

It doesn’t deter Sans in the slightest though. “so the dreemurrs know about that arm of yours now?" he wonders while leaning back with his hands behind his head.

Aofil stifles a grunt. Their head bursts awake with pain at the name, but Aofil needs to keep it in for a little while longer. "They do."

Sans peeks open one eye. "asriel too?"

"Last time I checked he was a Dreemurr." Another kick in Aofil's head, and this one they summoned themselves.

"i see." Sans closes his eyes. "gonna be real interesting to see how you'll come back from this one. both figuratively, and literally."

"Yeah, about that..."

Sans peeks his eye. It's narrowed. "you are planning on fixing this and coming back, right? because i'm not really in the mood to deal with the aftermath, you know? i'm a busy monster. i have a lot on my hands."

Sans' hands is full of his head, clasped behind, and resting against the top of sofa cushion. "Yeah." That Aofil can agree on, but otherwise? No, not really. They sill nod despite not agreeing in the slightest. "I can see that."

"and because you are such a wonderful human you'll do your friend right in fixing this mess you've stirred up, aof." Sans glances over to Frisk. "won't you agree?"

Chara opens Frisk's mouth, "Yea-" but immediately closes it.

Dammit.

Sans slowly opens his other eye. He runs them up and down Frisk's body. He then glances over to Aofil, and then back to Frisk. "why are you here?” His words are slow and deeply inquisitive.

“We need to-” Aofil starts, but Sans puts his hand up.

“i asked frisk,” Sans informs to Aofil without taking his eyes of Frisk. “i want to hear it from frisk, because apparently they can speak around you now, aof. forgive my curiosity as i wonder how the acoustics will be now with their voice bouncing off your body. a bit weird, don’t you agree? even weirder considering the reason why they didn’t in the first place. i’m sure you know why, aof. it would be the first thing i would say, but then again, i’m not a human.”

Chara looks to Aofil, fear building up behind Frisk’s eyes. Chara’s still keeping them narrowed, but Aofil can still see the worry clearly. They look at each other for too long, and Sans leans forward. The soft shuffling of fabric is enough to let the two humans know that he’s caught that something is amiss. They did plan for it, but now that they’re confronted about it, they’re not sure if they’ll manage.

Chara breaks eye contact with Aofil, and lowers Frisk’s head. “Memories.”

“what kind?”

“Bad ones.”

“from aofil?” Sans moves his surprised face over to Aofil. “about chara?”

The humans trade a quick glance. “No,” Chara shakes Frisk’s head, “about the first reset.”

“i see. but speaking of chara,” Sans turns his head back towards Chara, “has it finally decided to fade away now, frisk? only guess i can come up with as to why you can speak with aof now.”

“No,” Chara clenches Frisk’s fist something fierce, “they’ve not.”

“when did you start addressing chara as ‘they’? is it just because aofil is around?” Sans scratches his lobe. “i mean i like aof, but don’t you think bridging the gap closer between them and chara would be a bit, you know, horribly bad? or am i missing something here?”

Oh he has no idea, and if the humans play their cards right, he’ll stay that way.

“because you humanizing chara is giving it more room, frisk. and here i thought you put that, and it, behind you after...” Sans trails off as he’s visibly annoyed that he has to remember. “after you managed to convince yourself that chara really was a parasite.”

Chara quickly swipes a tear away from Frisk’s eye. They were lucky this time, Sans lowered his head and sighed, so he didn’t catch Chara’s act, but Aofil’s a bit concerned how long Chara can keep up the facade. A bit might be an understatement, but Aofil can’t show that it is.

“we’ve been over this, frisk, and i’m gonna repeat myself here so that aofil also hears. bringing back a human is not gonna happen. asriel we were lucky with. a monster is just magic, a human is a combined laundry and shopping list long of impossible reasons on top of the absurd amount of magic. i’ve no idea what you two have been talking about, but chara is dead. whatever sliver that’s left of it is hanging on to frisk’s soul, doing nothing but drain frisk of their very essence. in the same way i’m guessing that you would think that just a pinky toe is a lost case, chara won’t be coming back from what it is now. i want to recommend an exorcist, but can’t for the life of me find one.”

Sans throws his arms sideways out from behind his head. “and every single time its name is brought up the mood just crashes through the floor and into the underground, as demonstrated here. i’d say that would be appropriate, but to be frank, and also sans, but at the moment frank, i don’t even want to give it the time of day for a pun. i’ve done plenty damage enough by giving it any time of day to begin with. it might’ve been the hope of the underground, but the past tense is what it is for a reason. chara might’ve been your twin, aof, and again past tense, and even more past for you. it might be the only one left that you can’t save, frisk, but a dead human is a dead human.”

Sans returns his hands behind his head. He follows a tear falling from Frisk’s eye, and jerks back as it crashes against the floor mat. “look, kiddo, i know it hurts, but it’s gonna hurt much more if chara gets any sort of influence over you, again. the only way it was solved was with a reset, and we can’t afford one now. because reason one, we won’t be able to put the asriel genie back into the lamp, or plant pot, and then pull him out again. we’ve already done that trick, and it won’t amaze away the memories again. if anything, it would be worse for everyone. even if we bring him back it would just raise the bar up to the old memories’ level, not smash above like it did this time. the element of surprise is what fixed this, and i don’t think anyone else except perhaps chara can surprise on an equal level as asriel, but as i’ve just discussed, no.”

“and to be honest,” Sans scoffs lightly to himself, “i’m kinda enjoying this timeline. just need to convince this one,” he nods towards Aofil, who in response massages their lobe while shaking their head, “to come back, and everything will be perfect. as perfect as perfect can be, that is, since it appears that all the cards are on the table, and not in the sleeves where they couldn’t to any damage. but hey,” Sans shrugs with his palms up, “we’ve done worse.”

Aofil crosses their arms. “Have we now?”

“well, there was this time when frisk here saved all the monsters from eternal imprisonment, and this time when we managed to revive the prince of said ex imprisoned monsters. the worst though,” Sans puts up a finger, “was when you lied to toriel about the snails. i mean come on-”

Aofil remembers, and they almost collapse from the pain blossoming inside their skull. They stumble backwards, but manage to find a chair to fall into. They lean forward while clutching their head in agony.

Sans’ finger is bent back down by gravity as he stares at Aofil trying to contain the pain bursting from inside. “oh. that kind of bad memories. from the first reset?”

Aofil manages to force a nod, but it immediately shuts them down into a hazy and overwhelming ache.

Sans furrows his brows in thought. “but, it wasn’t that different though?”

Aofil’s strained breathing tells otherwise.

“unless...” Sans shifts his heads towards Chara. “was there one before?”

Chara nods.

Sans pupils disappear for a short while, but he shakes them back. “alright, i’ll have to deal with that later, i guess. heh,” He eases himself down the sofa. “never a dull moment when you’re around, ey aof? try and think about your date with muffet yesterday. should be enough to quell the old memories.”

“How did you-” Aofil breathes through clenched teeth. ”And it wasn’t a date.”

“yeah, like you would have any chance with her,” Sans winks, “and the fact that you can be embarrassed about it shows that it works.”

Sans puts his hand down close to the ground. “imagine, little...” He moves it up and down while furrowing his brow in deep thought. “huh, what would they be? human spiders? spider humans?”

“You just said I didn’t have a chance...” Aofil leans back in the chair, massaging their head.

“i’m trying to help you here, aof.”

Sure…

“anyways, imagine the wedding. silk dress on muffet, spun from, and by herself. a nice tuxedo made out of spiders on you to complete the arachnigement.”

“I’m-”

Sans flexes a finger to move the chair Aofil’s sitting on. They almost fall off it, barely managing to counter the movement. “shh,” Sans hushes, “i’m helping you.”

Aofil’s not convinced.

Sans gives the chair another tug with his magic before Aofil has time to form a retort. “as i was saying, spider wedding. would be quite expensive, but maybe she’ll cut you a deal on it? what do you say, frisk? five, maybe six percent off?”

Chara’s not in the mood to humor Sans. They’re rubbing Frisk’s arm with their other, looking down, and doing their damnedest to contain themselves.

“was worth a shot,” Sans returns his focus to Aofil.

“I met her before!” Aofil forces out with great effort and strain.

“huh,” Sans searches his mind for how to save the situation. After some silent thinking he wiggles his eyebrows. “and to imagine, it all started with an impropriety date at the finest of monster restaurants that could in no way be familiar from a previous reset since it could only have been constructed from the circumstances that have no correlation, nor causation, to the events that might’ve been similar, but ain’t, since said resets didn’t allow for these sets of parameters to result in parallels being drawn in a logical sense and is therefore not applicable for the soul and mind to squabble over.”

Aofil’s head is still thumping away, but suddenly they feel it’s something they can handle. It’s not their memories anymore, it’s Sans that’s now causing their head to hurt. Although if they really can handle Sans is a question for another time. Right now the illusion is enough, and Aofil don’t intend on breaking it anytime soon. They’re gonna have a lot more on their mind, in their mind, very soon already. They exhale a weary sigh, and remove their hands from their head.

Sans takes a bow. “you’re welcome, aof. i’ll send my consultation fee to your home here once you move back. if my guess is correct i’m pretty sure you’ll be at the end of royal street, so i might even hand you the bill in hand. if i have the time, of course.”

“Yeah,” Aofil blows their lips as the soothing tiredness from the pain they just had to endure washes over them, “whatever.”

“thing is, and this might just be my gut feeling, my full, fleshed out gut feeling.”

“Don’t make it worse, Sans,” Aofil pleads, despite knowing full well how futile it is.

“maybe,” Sans heads back to the sofa, “what my in no way hollow gut feeling says is that first we have to find a more permanent solution to your headaches. memorygraines? yeah-”

“No.”

Sans waves away the additional plead. “and i have some suspicions as to which solution you have in mind for these memorygraines. question is though, is there any other way you have in mind? because the thing you’re thinking about is not something i want to use again.”

“I’m with you on that part,” Aofil makes sure to agree. They throw a careful nod as to not rustle their mushed brain towards Chara. “Frisk and I haven’t figured out anything else.”

“you think it’s gonna work on a human?” Sans asks Chara with an inquisitive tone. “it worked with aof and asriel because they were fused.”

Chara points carefully at Aofil’s arm, they seem to have managed to regained some form of steadiness in Frisk’s voice. “Aofil still has some of Asriel inside their soul. Should be enough for the box to hook onto.”

“oh yeah,” Sans is a bit taken back by himself that he didn’t remember, “that should be enough. although, wouldn’t that result in aof going through their old memories as asriel?”

“What?” Aofil looks at their arm. “This is all I have of him. Besides, wouldn’t my soul sort of, I don’t know, take over? I’m a human, and our souls are so far above monster souls it’s not even funny?”

“heh. no need to brag,” Sans throws a wink to Aofil, who twists their lips into an annoyed frown, “but that’s why i said that it might happen. if it happens, you will probably also remember it as being you, and not asriel. whether it’ll help or worsen your memories, that i don’t know. heck, i don’t even know how to use the memory box besides its intended purpose. it’s horrible as a conversation starter, it clashes with the interior, and you can’t even store things in it.”

Sans shakes his head. “horrible.”

“My soul bleeds for you.”

“thank you. don’t let asriel drip all over your organs though.”

Aofil needs to close their eyes and recenter themselves for a bit before continuing. Sans made good in calming down their headache, but he is quickly making a new one to replace it. “Where is the memory box, Sans?”

“huh,” Sans crosses his arms and scratches his chin, “good question.”

No.

“No.”

Absolutely not. Aofil refuses to believe that.

“I know that this might be the first exercise you’ve ever gotten, Sans, but please jog your memory.”

Sans chuckles heartily. “good one.”

“I’m serious!”

“and so am i, thank you very much. forgive me for trying to distance myself from something that, by all accounts, is a pretty horrible thing to have in existence. the surface has been pretty draining on me as well, you know, i had to relearn to give a damn. gotta tell you, it ain’t easy. so please, just give me a minute to think here.”

Okay?

Aofil narrows their eyes on the grumbling skeleton. “You alright, Sans?”

He exhales tiredly. “i am, sorry. it’s just, heh, having my fate in my own hands again, i kinda forgotten how it felt back in the underground. i woke up for the third time every morning, and though to myself,” he flexes his hands, “oh geez, this sure does seem a lot like yesterday. in fact, it’s just the same.”

“i’m not talking about sleeping the entire day away,” Sans makes sure to be perfectly clear, “although that was the case a few times.”

“no,” with a couple of taps on his skull, Sans continues after a sigh, “i’m talking about the memories. i can’t pinpoint exactly when, but the fact remains that i became somewhat aware that something was wrong. that it wasn’t my mind playing tricks on me about the world, but the world playing tricks on me. i did some research, probably did the same research a dozen times or so before i could scrape enough memories together to continue. i didn’t get anywhere though, and decided to just roll with it. if the world didn’t care about moving forward, why should i?”

Sans shrugs with a sideways nod towards Chara. “then kiddo here broke the barrier, and the rest you know, aof. begrudgingly so, i assume, but hey, such is life. anyway, suddenly, tomorrow will become yesterday, and then the day before yesterday, and then yesterweek, yestermonth, and yesteryear. it was so strange, at first. now it’s no longer strange for me, but it’s strange for me,” Sans taps his chest while glancing over to Aofil, “you following?”

Aofil nods carefully.

“so yeah, just need to soldier along with this freedom, i guess. don’t think i want to go back how it was though. like i said, i’ve gotten used to this. just need to get comfortable, that's all. good thing i have this sofa to help me.”

“And the box?”

“hm?”

“The memory box?” Aofil repeats a bit slower.

Sans points behind Aofil. They turn around, and find a plant pot resting on top of a very conspicuous looking box.

They turn back to Sans. “You serious?”

“it clashes horribly with the wallpaper, i know. it’s where it clashes the least though, so there’s that.”

Aofil swears under their breath. Half towards Sans not telling where it is to begin with, and half because they agree that it would look worse everywhere else in the house.

The box is lighter than Aofil expected. It feels heavy in their hand, but it’s actual weight is a lot less than it looks like. Its many engravings gives it a very uneven texture. The metallic finishing is weathered from age.

Or use…

Speaking of use. “So how does it work, exactly? How do I activate it?”

“bring out your soul and it should latch onto it. then i guess just think about what memory you want to explore.”

Aofil throws a very disdain look at Sans. “You guess?”

“haven’t really done much with it, believe it or not.”

Chara moves closer, and places themselves next to Aofil. The two humans share a glance.

“I don’t want to hurry you up, Aofil, but please hurry up,” Chara begs with Frisk’s voice just enough for Aofil to hear. It’s back to being borderline audible. Frisk’s body is shaking like a leaf.

“you should probably step back, kiddo,” Sans advises. “we don’t want to have it latch onto you.”

Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy.

“aof...”

Aofil looks up. “What?”

“what was that?”

“What was-”

“your smile,” Sans interrupts sharply and with weight. “that you just did. the one that one do when one knows something the other doesn’t. what am i missing?”

Aofil’s eyes betray them as they shuffle by their own volition over to Chara.

“frisk?”

The temperature in the room drops below freezing. The weight of it has Chara coughing a sob. It’s violent.

“why frisk?”

“To bring them back...”

Aofil’s neck tenses to the brink of breaking as they snap it around to Chara.

“I’m sorry...” Frisk’s mouth starts quivering, “I need them back. I shouldn’t be here.”

“so.”

A rapid gust knocks Aofil off their chair, as Sans shortcuts in between them and Chara. With hollow eyes he looks back and forth between the humans.

“a family reunion.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Enormous thanks to the incredible Polaris for their commissioned art!](https://polarissketches.tumblr.com/post/168968758113/commission-by-the-author-congar-from-archive-of)


	32. It's a beautiful day outside

"too bad you didn’t call before you came. i would’ve cleaned the house for you," Sans draws a long sigh through his nose. “now i guess i have to clean the house with you.”

The light fades from the room as a heavy aura dims from the ceiling down. Chara stumbles backwards, away from the grinning skeleton. They quickly hit a wall though, and sink down in a hail of sharp sobs and weathered crying.

“good to see that your memory still holds up. if it were any other person i’d be intrigued to research this,” Sans snaps his fingers, pushing Chara down even further into the floor. Aofil tries to stand up, but Sans does the same to them, “but i can’t for the life of me get over this unyielding rage inside. such a shame.”

With a scoff, the room becomes even darker.

“oh well,” Sans shrugs with his palms upwards. Above them hovers two giant animalistic skulls, one above each hands, “i’m sure it will fade in a second or two, like you will. you want to feel how it is to be at the helm? the same it was the last time you tried.”

“Sans, stop.”

Sans swivels his head around. Two infinitely black voids stare at Aofil. “don’t you worry, i don’t have favorites for family members. you’ll get the same as your twin here, aof. or are you chara as well?”

“Chara wants to disappear!”

“good,” Sans turns back around, “then the two of us want the same thing.”

“Frisk is still in there, Sans! We’re trying to bring them back!” Aofil sits up after a lot of strain fighting against Sans’ magic. It takes a toll on Sans as well, and he bends over a bit to catch his breath. Aofil can see him squeezing the fabric inside his pockets.

“why did Frisk disappear in the first place?”

“It’s...” Chara gasps for air, “it’s my fault.”

Sans has to compose himself again. His fingers are almost ripping his pocket asunder, but he stands his ground. “heh, figured that one out all by myself, kiddo.”

“No, it’s...” Chara puts Frisk’s hand over Frisk’s chest, “they wanted me to come out. To convince Aofil to stay.”

Sans trades glances with both of the humans. His brow furrows, but he doesn’t force any of the humans down again as they try to stand up. He nods for Aofil to stand next to Chara, and they oblige. “i’m gonna keep these two out though,” he says while indicating with his returning pupil towards the skulls floating silently. “more witnesses, if you don’t mind. now, pray tell, why should i believe a single thing from the two of you?”

Chara begins, “Because...” but they trail of before almost falling over. Aofil catches them. Frisk is pale, and cold sweat is running all over them.

“dramatic,” Sans is quick to comment, “should sell tickets.” With a quick flick of his wrist he sends a chair over to the humans.

“Because it’s the only way to get Frisk back,” Aofil eases Chara down into the chair, and gently sits them down as comfortable as possible. “The two of them apparently made a deal. Chara would take over to try and convince me, and in return...”

“and in return? besides having control of frisk’s body to do whatever.”

Chara can barely hold Frisk’s eyes open.

“Believe it or not-”

“i don’t.”

Aofil motions with their open hand towards Chara. “It’s hurting them to do this. To be in control.”

“that’s what they’re telling you, aof,” Sans also motions with his hand towards Chara, but his gesture is the opposite of Aofil’s. “they’ve taken over frisk and killed everyone once already, so i would take what they say with a grain, if not the entire jar, of salt. they’re slippery as a snail, and nowhere sweet enough to also be a pie. salt is what you need here.”

“Not according to Chara. It was because their and Frisk’s shared determination that Frisk lost control.”

Chara nods faintly.

It only summons a disdained look from Sans. “just because they said it with frisk’s tongue doesn’t make it true.” He raises his eyebrows. “i’m a believer in that actions speak louder than words, and chara tried to wreak genocide on all of monsterdom. so you know,” Sans rubs his finger on the side of his head, “ears still ringing from that.”

“Mine are too from when you tried to kill me, Sans,” Aofil reminds with a similar cleaning of their own ear, “but as you so much want me to believe, it wasn’t all that it looked out to be. Even a lazy sack like you can make the mental leap that the same can happen to you.”

“heh,” Sans wiggles an eyebrow, “seems like your head isn’t hurting from remembering, aof.”

Aofil indicates at the two large and ominous skulls above Sans. “Mostly because it’s busy worrying about these two.”

“fair,” he agrees, “but you still haven’t told me what your twin here is getting out of this whole ordeal. i have some guesses on the spectrum of bad to horrible, but humor me for a bit, will ya?”

“I don’t actually know,” Aofil admits. They catch themselves intrigued, perhaps even more than Sans. Aofil gently disturbs Chara by shaking Frisk’s shoulder very lightly. “What would you gain in return, Chara?”

“I...”

Aofil helps Chara sit up in the chair as Frisk’s body almost slides out of it.

“I just want to save someone. Just...one...” Chara moves Frisk’s eyes from Aofil to Sans. “I couldn’t save Aofil when we were kids, I couldn’t save the monsters with Asriel, and my presence inside Frisk almost killed the monsters. Now I’m killing them too.”

Sans nose would’ve been wrinkled if he had one.

“If I could save Aofil, and get them back with their friends, then that would be enough.”

Sans looks over to Aofil to gauge their reaction. Aofil isn’t showing anything though.

“was it yours or frisk’s idea?” Sans asks directly after with a faint sigh.

“Frisk’s.”

“and how much convincing did you need?”

“More than Frisk could muster. I couldn’t allow them to. They wanted to do it when they met you in your school last weeks, Aofil. I refused. I couldn’t allow them to. I was too scared.”

“yet here you are,” Sans reminds with a sharp tilt of his head. “so if you could stop lying that would calm down my tinnitus a bit for me to try and hear if there’s any truth in your words.”

“Frisk...they forced me. Suddenly I could see, and feel, breathe, think. It was overwhelming.” Chara has to pause to catch some air. “I almost gave into the determination back there, Aofil. That’s why I gloated when I first saw you. Luckily Frisk was loud enough to remind me. Otherwise...”

“you trailing off like that isn’t exactly giving me the greatest of confidence about this, you know? and when you say that frisk was loud, you mean that they’re quiet now?”

Chara nods, which prompts Sans’ pupils to vanish almost instantly. They come back after a second or so though, and he sighs with his hand on his forehead. “you believe them, aof?”

A musical tune fills the room. Chara turns Frisk’s head down towards Frisk’s leg. Through the fabric, Aofil sees Frisk’s phone vibrate. They push it out.

‘Mom’

Aofil has to close their eyes as a stinging shock charges through their skull. Dammit! They push the back of their hand against their forehead, and by doing so, they show Chara the caller.

“Mom...”

Frisk’s body goes limp.

Aofil quickly disconnects the call, and puts their hand on Frisk’s shoulder.

They’re still breathing though, but it’s pained. Exhausted.

Scared.

Aofil again balances Frisk on the chair, “You’ve lied worse to me, Sans,” and pockets the phone back into Frisk’s pants, “so listening to Chara can’t be worse than what I’ve already done.”

“heh,” Sans scoffs, “got me there,” and clasps his hands together. “so, how do we get frisk back? preferably in time for when the second call arrives, or when the front door gets kicked in.”

Aofil beckons for the memory box behind Sans. “Chara uses the box to try and reawaken Frisk.”

Sans turns around to look at the box. He smacks his tongue, and returns his head towards Aofil, albeit with an inquisitive tilt to it. “it can’t hook into human souls though, and i’m not in the mood to tinker around with my own soul, i’m afraid. both figuratively, and literally.”

Aofil walks over to pick up the box, because Sans clearly won’t. They turn the box around in their hand. “We’ll calibrate it, or whatever, for my soul. Me and Chara’s are the same, so it might work.”

“and then?”

“I’ll use it myself, I guess.” Aofil pushes the flat of their free hand against their forehead. “Feeling a bit of a headache coming along, so that plan is still in motion.”

Just need to activate it, and then it’s off to the races. If Aofil had any mind left to spare they’d second think all of this, but with current company present, and previous company from another conflicting time, and memory, knocking loudly at the door, Aofil’s too busy to juggle what ifs. Even though what ifs are the reason everything is happening…

They heave a deep exhale in hopes that the thoughts follow the air out of their head. Should keep focus on the box, and try to get it open. There’s no lock or anything on it. Come to think of it, there’s really nothing on it. Sure, there’s ornate carvings, but nothing that Aofil can use. No button, no nothing. They can’t find a way to activate the box.

“Some help?” they ask of Sans while holding the box out for him.

“yes, just let me get within arm’s reach of the kid who’s determination almost killed the entire underground, and their twin which has the exact same soul, and determination!”

Aofil’s face and shoulders sink into a tired frown. “Sans...”

He snaps his fingers again, and the skulls above him vanish with a silent gust. “just needed to get it out of my system.” He puts his hands back into his pockets, and meanders over towards the humans. “let’s see here.”

Sans inspects it thoroughly while making no effort to remove it from Aofil’s hand. He checks every side carefully, thinking in whispers at every line stretching across the box.

“You’ve done this before, Sans...”

“i know, i know.”

“So, what’s different?”

Sans swivels his pupils and eyebrows from the box over to Aofil, “apart from everything?” and returns them after Aofil fails to produce an answer. “but i guess the biggest difference here is that we’re trying to not only do it to a human, but also on a human that’s not the human it will be used on. i can’t hot swap my toast in the morning without risking my fingers burning.”

“i mean,” Sans looks to the side with a quick shrug, “i can do it with my magic, but others can’t. you get my point, right aof?”

Aofil mirrors the shrug. “I guess?”

“besides, if you die, or even worse, frisk dies...”

Aofil’s not sure how to take that.

“then the royals, and everyone else, will probably, certainly, kill me.”

Aofil indicates with their free hand to the empty air above Sans’ shoulders. “So then what was those skulls about?”

“you gotta stop living in the past, my friend. gotta let it be behind you where it belongs.”

“I’m not sure if you’re trying to an ass just for fun now, Sans. Or if you think provoking me is somehow gonna makes this easier?”

Sans pauses to think about what he just said. He shrugs it off after some quick deliberating. ”some determination might actually be good in this case, but it was not my intention, believe it or not. i’m trying to do good here and focus everything i got into figuring out the safest way for us to do this arguably idiotic idea.”

“There are arguments for what we’re doing?”

“you’re the one telling me that frisk and chara is hurting, aof. interrupting me to nitpick is not gonna make this faster. unless you’ve figured out how to reset.” Sans closes his eyes for a second or two, but it’s not long enough. Aofil sees but for a brief moment that his pupils have faded. “but i’m sure you wouldn’t be in this predicament if you could.”

“You can take the box out of my hand, by the way,” Aofil advises. “You don’t have to bend all over me.”

“a couple of reasons. one, the box is made out of magic. two, i’m made out of magic. three, adding these two together might lead to some corruption. or you experiencing the memories as me, and thinking that me is you. i wouldn’t call that corruption though. again, if it was just you, or just frisk, then it would be fine, but since we’re trying to make it susceptible even after being calibrated, then i’m gonna refrain from touching it. you’ve carried heavier things, you’ll be fine.”

Aofil opens their mouth for a few well chosen words, but Sans stands up straight, “i think i’ve looked at it enough now,” and nods towards Chara. “i’m gonna assume that they’re ready as can be.”

Frisk’s body looks very peaceful and calm, but from all the evidence laid out during the day, Aofil’s convinced that the peace is only skin deep.

“So, step one?”

Sans throws a thumb over his shoulder. “let us move the kiddo over to the sofa.”

“And by us-” Aofil doesn’t even bother finishing the sentence. Expecting anything else than a quip and a wink from Sans would require a miracle.

Aofil would rather use the miracle to increase their chances of this going somewhat fine.

Gotta have that miracle in the first place though…

Carefully, Aofil eases Frisk’s body up on their shoulder. Frisk is rather light for their size, which is all fine for Aofil at the moment. They’re not really a heavyweight contestant themselves, so it still takes a bit of effort to move Frisk across the room.

Sans watches Aofil put Frisk down on the sofa. “not as young as you used to be?”

“Zip it.”

“grab that chair,” Sans motions for one across the room, “and bring it here.”

Aofil reaches for one that’s much closer though, leaving Sans without one near him to use. His furrowed stare fails to reach Aofil. They instead motion for him to start. “Ready as can be on my part as well.”

“so, the first step is to bring out your soul, aof. frisk’s too.”

Aofil looks down at their chest. “Any chance we can do it without taking them out?”

“yes, actually,” Sans nods, “but that is adding another layer of chance to this cake of chances. you’re both gonna eat it and have it too, so it’s up to you how high you want it to be.”

“Is it already towering?”

“i’d say so, yeah.”

“Then what is another layer, really?”

“heh,” Sans beckons for Aofil to scoot closer with their chair, “i guess so.”

With a few careful jumps, Aofil inches closer to the sleeping human. They hold the box in their outstretched hand between their and Frisk’s chest.

“a bit closer to yours,” Sans instructs, “once you feel like you’re being sucked away shove it into frisk’s chest. hopefully that will be enough for it to be configured for your soul, and not enough for it to begin working on your soul.”

“Hopefully...” Aofil repeats. A weary sigh is forced out of them. “Always that word.”

“it makes sense in this situation, i’d argue.”

“Why?”

“because we have three of them. well, two and a...something. two and a half if i’m generous.”

Two and a half?

“Of what?” Aofil wonders, despite them being a bit afraid of the answer.

“hopes.”

The moment of silence following speaks volume.

“you don’t know what your soul means, do you? or what frisk’s, and i’m hesitant to say it, but chara’s meant as well?”

“I know that it means almost everything bad that has happened to me,” Aofil is quick to inform, but please, pray goddamn tell. “What does my soul mean?”

“hope.”

“Of course it does...”

“why else would all the monsters that have gotten near you feel stronger? why do you think that you and frisk mean so much to us?”

Aofil’s eyebrows almost crash through the ceiling. “Because our souls are red?”

“in the same way that you’re alive just because of millions or so long strings of the easiest game of ‘match the shape’, yes. you might not feel the magic that your soul radiates, aof, but us monsters do.”

“Even you, Sans?”

“why else would i agree to all of this? i might’ve been a bit hesitant, but for some damn reason i still think we can do this.”

Before Aofil can list the many other reasons they´re more than glad to share, Sans puts up a hand to stop them. “look, aof, i’m not saying that we like you only because you have a red soul. what i’m saying is that we want to be near you because it fills us with hope. with you or frisk around the sun is shining, you know? like a nice summer breeze no matter the weather.”

“You are saying that you’re only around me because of my soul.”

Sans sighs, “heh,” and pinches the bridge of his would be nose, “in a sense i am. we probably wouldn’t have been here if it wasn’t for you, aof, and by that i mean the entire you, both your soul, and your mind. your magic, and your humanity. we could’ve been unlucky and met a red soul that had it all against us...”

Sans stops, looks at Aofil, and then down at the memory box. His smile freezes, and his eyes turns dark and empty. “is that what happened the first time around?”

Sans inhales sharply, and his pained grunt answers his own question. “yep, that is what happened.” He shakes his head sternly. “otherwise i wouldn’t feel that a knife cut my mind just now.”

Aofil’s feeling something building up as well.

“it’s all in the past, that never was.” Sans takes some calming breathes. “i’ll deal with it later.” It seems to work, and he exhales calmly. “alright, where was i?”

Aofil hazards a guess. “You were trying to make some sort of point?”

“ah,” with a quick snap of his fingers, Sans continues, “yes, your red soul, and with you being nice to us,” he adds quickly, “has done so much for us you can’t even believe. around it, around you, we monsters feel good, and because of that we’re more encouraged, and because of that we succeed with things we might’ve not done without you. yeah, we might’ve blown what you did out of proportions according to you, but to us. heh, the only reason you and frisk’s statue isn’t welcoming everyone into the city is because we couldn’t make them big enough. probably chara as well, if the dreemurrs had their way. considering that they're the royals, they probably would.”

Aofil tries to let that sink in, but the image of it…It's too much for them to swallow.

“whether or not,” Sans tilts his head towards Frisk’s body, “your twin would’ve also been there, my tinnitus started ringing when their name was brought up at the planning meeting.”

Sans throws up a very stern finger. “you, aof,” and bends it Aofil’s way, “you and your soul helped us with all of this.” He waves his finger all around the house. “you and frisk. we’ve escaped the underground, and managed to settle down on the surface, something that we for many many years thought were impossible. that is something we managed only with the help of your red hearts, both fleshy, and magical. we might’ve put you up on a pedestal without your permission, aof, but we did so because of the things you did.”

He moves his fingers to the side of his skull, “your actions,” and rolls up an imaginary ball of ear wax before shooting it away, “is what helped us. for what it’s worth, sorry that we paraded your name without your permission, but understand that we didn’t do it maliciously. we bought you a massive tub of ice cream, but we didn’t know you were lactose intolerant.”

“Got a hell of a brain freeze because of that, gotta tell ya.”

“water under the bridge?”

Not even close.

“No,” Aofil hangs on the word, as it is heavier than stone.

“heh, see what your hope made me ask? get started now before we wisen up.”

A click is heard as Aofil moves the box closer to their chest. They hesitate, but Sans waves for them to continue. Despite Aofil’s better judgment, they continue. As the box creeps closer, Aofil starts to feel a bit more…

Hollow?

Drained?

Used?

They can’t really put their finger on it, but something is definitely happening. Something is ha-

“shove it.”

Aofil’s vision twists and turns, as if it’s being siphoned away.

“shove it!”

Sans throws his fist against Aofil’s elbow, and it extends out. In the same moment the box hits Frisk’s chest, the feeling fades away from Aofil. They blink in half a panic.

“keep it steady,” Sans maintains his push on Aofil’s elbow, “and put it down as close as you can to the kiddo.”

Aofil places the box just next to Frisk’s chest. They bend in Frisk’s arm to hold the box, and then lean back.

“That was,” Aofil blows their lips, “horribly unpleasant.”

“we’ll see in a bit if it works.”

Again Frisk’s pocket vibrates.

“and in the meantime,” Sans makes a small hook with his finger, and pulls out Frisk’s phone, “you can make it up to the royals.”

Aofil pushes away the ringing phone hovering in front of their face while being careful not to see who the caller is. “I still have the memories, Sans.”

“oh yeah,” Sans brings the phone to him, “right. then how about some tea? there are bags and a kettle in the kitchen which is out of audible distance.” He waves the phone playfully. “if you catch my totally tangential point which has nothing to do with this.”

“I getcha, I getcha,” Aofil stands up, and follows Sans’ outstretched finger towards the kitchen.

“a bit of sugar in mine, please.”

“Two spoons?”

“if you insist.”

Aofil turns their wrinkled brow around, but Sans quickly answer the phone. “ello, ello?”

Aofil ducks in through the kitchen door, and closes it quickly behind them. Their angry mumbling serves two purposes. One, it keeps them from punching a hole in the wall. Two, it lessens the chance of any rogue word slipping inside their head.

Screaming would be preferable, but right now Aofil can’t muster up one.

Sans’ kettle whistles a tune different from Aofil’s despite looking very much alike. Is it because of the tea? Doesn’t seem to be Golden Flower. Either way, Aofil pours a cup for them, and one for Sans.

Aofil deserves something today, so no sugar for Sans.

They catch Sans’s attention through the glass pane in the door, and he nods that it is safe for Aofil.

“yeah, aofil just finished the tea, so why don’t you all come over?”

He…

With a flick Sans disconnects the call. “i hope you put in some extra sugar to offset your sour frown.”


	33. Sleep on it

"What in the actual fuck did you just do, Sans!”

Sans removes Aofil’s cup from the tray as well as his own. "you and i can't finish an entire kettle of tea by ourselves. i don't like wasting, so i thought why not. after all that has happened today i’m sure they’ll appreciate a cup just like you."

"You invited the freaking Dreemurrs, Sans!”

“it doesn’t hurt you saying their names?”

Sans made the right choice in removing Aofil’s cup. They throw their hands up, sending the tray flying across the room. “It’s gonna hurt way more actually seeing them, Sans!”

Sans catches the tray with his magic, and moves it back to the table next to him. “you sound a bit upset.”

“I’m goddamn livid, Sans!”

“really don’t have to end every sentence with my name, aof. i’m right here.” Sans taps a finger on his cup. “determination is good though, so keep on being livid.”

“What if the memory box doesn’t work? And then Chara wakes up to them coming in!” Aofil grabs their head. “Asriel will probably find out almost instantly...If Chara could feel his soul inside mine, then there’s no doubt Asriel can feel theirs now that they’re in control of Frisk.”

Aofil’s eyes almost fall out of their skull as they drag their hands down their face, tugging their skin in the process. The sound of a careful sip perks their ears, as Sans takes another careful sample of his tea. His face scrunches up, almost mimicking Aofil’s. Even despite the complete lack of flexible skin Sans wrinkles go deep. He places down the teacup, and vanishes. The table vibrates quietly as the gust of Sans’ shortcut sweeps its legs.

"let's hope the memory box works then,” Sans shouts from the kitchen. Aofil hears a cupboard opening and closing, and less than a second after Sans is back in his chair, followed shortly by another huff of wind, “and if it doesn't, then might as well pull the wool away directly instead of having them figure it out by their own."

He adds four spoons of sugar to his tea before nodding that it is good now.

“put the cards on the table before someone tries to build a house out of them.”

Aofil lands hard in their chair. “And then what about me?”

With a small motion of two of his fingers, Sans sends Aofil’s cup over to them along with the sugar. “if the box works then you’ll have an excellent time to talk everything out with them. pretty sure we can make that isolated from whether the kiddo wakes up or not, and which kiddo it is. if the box doesn’t work out for you, well, then you have a real reason to say that you have to stay away. a win win situation, if you ask me.”

Sans takes a long drink of his tea. When he’s done, he exhales calmly, letting the warmth of it wash over him. “i’ll be here, don’t worry.”

Sure…

“like hell that i’m gonna miss all of this going down.”

And there we have it.

“you think we can record it all in the memory box?”

“Sans!” Aofil presses their fingers against their templates. “Words cannot describe how much I want to hit you right now.”

“good, then you’ll shut up about it.”

“I-”

“and keep focus on what’s important,” Sans interrupts. He takes another sip of tea before motioning with a quick tilt of his head towards the front door. “the front door is there, aof, it has always been there. you haven’t glanced at it once, both figuratively, and literally, since you got here. if you want to leave, then leave. go home and live your life without us. it’s been great seeing you, despite everything. i wish you luck in your future.”

Aofil doesn’t stand up instantly, and that speaks more than enough for Sans. “the only reason you’d ever want to subject yourself to any of this is because you want to stay, aof. some small part of you want to stay. you wanna guess which?”

Aofil doesn’t.

Sans puts his finger on where it is regardless. “your soul. it’s like that physics example you’re so fond of using. for every action, there’s an opposite and equal reaction. your soul made us all stronger, and in return, you felt stronger as well. the aofil we met...” Sans returns his finger to his skull, scratching it lightly. “what would it be? second time? yes, the aofil we met the second time is not the aofil that’s sitting here in front of me. ignoring the resets, which we should to begin with, you’ve come a long way, aof. you are the hope of the surface, and you should be proud of it.”

“I’ll be proud of it once it stops hurting me to be it, Sans.”

“good, then you’ll talk it out with the royals, right?”

Aofil’s head sinks down into their hand. Heavy as can be, they shake it with great effort.

Why aren’t they walking out that door?

Aofil looks over to Frisk’s body. Their face is wrinkled, making them look almost as old as Aofil. Well, not with as many wrinkles, that is. How can Frisk stand all of this? Give up their own body just on the off chance that Aofil would stay? Hope must be a synonym to wishful thinking. Borderline crazy, even. Same can be said for Aofil, since they’re still not bolting for that door.

What is the reason?

Curiosity? About what happened during that first reset? Chara said that Aofil was at the forefront and-

Aofil’s head is shot throughout by a sharp and rapid bolt of pain. They close their eyes and let out a small grunt. Sans moves Aofil’s cup closer to them.

"i know how much you like your thinking, aof, but maybe not now? and maybe not about this?"

Aofil gives their tea a small sip, and their tongue twists in confusion. Their face does the same, and Sans moves the sugar closer. Aofil adds two spoons before it’s fine enough to swallow, and stay down.

Hopefully.

Aofil brow furrows. There’s that word again.

Hopefully.

Wild guesses, shots in the dark that would make even the most decorated marksman impressed, going out on limbs like a novelty circus act, and always, always, with nothing but a vague promise that

Hopefully

They will succeed.

Hopefully

They will rescue Asr-

They will rescue that prince.

Hopefully

It will be enough to shake some sense into memories that haunted the monsters.

And hopefully

Aofil will come back…

Aofil glances over to Sans, who smiles with a shrug, before returning to their teacup. They miss the lip on the ceramic with their own, and a couple of drops run down their chin.

Aofil dries it off with their free arm. The brown liquid stains the white fur. Sans is quick to offer a napkin, and Aofil takes one with a quick. “Thanks.”

Their arm, their fur. Is it really their fur? Aofil’s fur was the reason they had to leave, that they had to hide it, and themselves, from everyone else. Their curse blossoming, it was because of their fur. All their hate, all their anxiety, their misery, it was because they were cursed. Cursed because they stuck their neck out for the monsters. Sticking their neck out for the monsters because…

Because they killed them?

Was it because Aofil felt indebted to the monsters? But if so, why wasn’t bringing Asriel back enough to pay that debt back? Was Aofil’s fur the interest to that debt?

Was the scene in the basement with Alphys the last payment then? Not to the monsters, but to Aofil themselves. Hard as it is for Aofil to admit, but the monsters never really asked for anything. They praised Aofil, thought about building a statue of them. If anything they felt like they owed Aofil something. So who did Aofil need to pay back to?

Themselves?

“Sans?”

“yes?” he answers without opening an eye.

“Can you turn my soul blue?”

The question is enough for him to slightly open one eye. “yes. follow up, why?”

“I need to test something.”

“don’t really think you should have any more magic inside of you now that you’ve interacted with the memory box, especially when we ripped it away like that. for all we know, your soul might be wide open, and me applying my magic could result in a horrible amount of things going wrong. you might even absorb my own magic, who knows? and if you know my magic, then i’ll be out of a job.”

“...I suppose.”

“if i were you, i’d enjoy the quiet. if you want i can put a pillow in front of the kiddo if they’re distracting you.”

“It’s fine.”

Sans closes his eye again, and sinks down into his chair. He ends up with his back on the seat, and his head pressed against the backrest. No way that it’d be comfortable for Aofil. Not that Sans would care about that.

He is right about the quiet though. This past week has been loud. So many things have happened. Aofil’s barely gotten a moment to catch their breath. Now that they have one, maybe they can finally let things sink in.

Like again, the fact that they haven’t left through the door.

Too bad that Sans refused to use his magic on Aofil. For good reasons though, Aofil agrees, maybe not the latter reasons, but the first ones were plenty enough. They need to test how they feel while exposed to magic now though. Test if their curse is real, or just one of their own making. Now that they’ve talked to Chara, it feels a bit strange putting the blame on them, if just tangentially. Perhaps Aofil was wrong about the monsters seeing them as Chara’s twin, Chara’s replacement? For as much as Chara was down in the Underground with the monsters, they sounded very human.

So did the monster too, come to think of it.

It won’t change what the curse has done though. All the damage is real, too freaking real. It might help Aofil accept it if they stop thinking of it as a curse. Might help them put it all behind them.

But…

All that talk about being a hero, being the hope of the Surface, that’s too much, regardless if their curse is real or not.

Is it because the monsters felt indebted to Aofil?

Must be, why else would they even consider making a damn statue out of them! Aofil doesn’t want a statue.

Maybe for another reason, but not this reason. Not because of what they did, even though what they did is worthy of it. They’ve burned that bridge by not involving Aofil in the discussion. Even if Aofil did cross over the bridge to the other side alone and refusing to bring them along, they shouldn’t have done that.

Aofil foresees the monsters using the same argument towards them. Shouldn’t have left, shouldn’t have gone away without talking. Aofil made their bed, and they’ve been tossing and turning in it ever since.

Maybe it was wrong now, but it felt right then. Maybe they ran away, but what else could they do? It was so tiring, all they did. It hurt, it was too much! It was-

“aof.”

“What!”

“exhale.” Sans lifts a calm finger. He points it to Aofil’s cup. “it’s about to break. exhale.”

Aofil looks down. Both their hands are clenching the cup. Clenching hard, as hard as they can. Their teeth are gritted too, also almost to the breaking point.

Aofil exhales, feeling every fiber of their being relax. They take a long breath, and exhale again. They drink some tea. The warm liquid spreads out from their core, out to their limbs. To their fingers, to their head, to their cheeks.

Their cheeks…

Aofil touches their right one carefully.

Warm.

Not burning hot, just warm, like the rest of their skin. Just the same. Come to think of it, they can’t really remember their cheek stinging ever since that ordeal with Mettaton.

Aofil scoffs.

Guess that explains it then.

“that’s not something i thought i’d see in a long while.”

Aofil shifts their eyes over to Sans, who peeks one eye open. “What?”

“you smiling.”

Aofil coughs up a small chuckle, and shakes their head. “I’m flattered, Sans, but I don’t think you and I will work together.”

Sans isn’t hurt by that. Not visibly, that is. “your loss.” He reaches over for his tea. “but in all seriousness, why the smile? did you think of a joke? share please if you did. humor comes from the soul, so your human humor must be better than mine, right? don’t actually answer that.”

“Nah, it’s just,” Aofil swirls the liquid around inside their cup, “I did some thinking, that’s all.”

“i see,” with a quick glance over to Frisk, Sans allows himself another swig of tea as he confirms that they’re still fine. “thinking is good. i know i just said that it was bad, but hear me out. i wished you did it before you left us, but hey, better late than never.”

“Yeah, sure.”

For some reason Aofil’s tea tastes a bit sourer now.

They don’t get a lot of time to lament it though, as Frisk’s body jerks awake with a vicious jolt. Their eyes shoot wide open in a blank stare, and a razor sharp gasp sucks almost all the air out of the room.

With a brow lowered in half worry, half preparedness, Sans nods for Aofil to follow him. Carefully they walk up to Frisk’s body. The blank stare doesn’t react to the two of them closing in, and Sans’ brow furrows even harder. He motions for Aofil to put a hand on Frisk, carefully.

Aofil feels the abnormal breathing underneath the blue and pink striped sweater. Frisk’s torso is expanding and contrasting at an alarming pace. It’s fast, and unrhytmical.

Is this gonna happen to Aofil as well?

“Frisk? Are you there?” they ask solemnly. They give Frisk’s shoulder a careful shake.

Frisk’s eyes blink, and their pupils start to move. First up to Aofil, and then to Sans.

As the two lock eyes, another dark aura is summoned. Sans takes a step back, his pupils vanishing in an instant.

“Sans!” Aofil yells, but it has no effect.

Sans shortcuts away.

He returns a moment afterwards with a bucket in his hand. He shoves it underneath Frisk’s head. “not on the carpet, kiddo!”

A vicious sounding heave later Frisk rips the bucket out of Sans’ hands, and force their head into it. Aofil’s face can do nothing but tense up in disgust as Frisk discharges heave after heave into the metal container. It’s not long before Sans shortcuts away a second time, returning with as many buckets as he can carry. He dumps them in front of Frisk, catches his breath, and shortcuts away again to fetch more.

Aofil can only guess as to why Sans has so many. Their thoughts are interrupted by Frisk moaning as they move over to a less filled bucket.

Five buckets later, Frisk finally looks up. Their face is pale, drained.

“You alr-”

Another bucket is filled.

Another half later, or roughly half, Aofil’s not really keen to make an accurate measurement, Aofil puts their hand on Frisk’s back. “You alright, Frisk?” they try again.

Weak nod. A good sign.

“You you again?”

Another weak nod.

“What about Chara?”

Weak-

A seventh bucket is filled.

“I’ll get you some water.”

Exhausted thumb up.

“I’ll fetch the water since you can’t smell this,” Aofil says to Sans before he can shortcut away. “Pretty sure you’d want to open a window, by the way.”

“because of our other guests? as if i could forget, and as you should, aof. the old ones, that is,” he tells Aofil’s back. “not the old as in year, but as in reset!” he clarifies just as Aofil’s about to close the kitchen door behind them.

Once inside the kitchen, Aofil opens the kitchen window as they arrive at the faucet. They fill a nearby pitcher with water they catch a whiff of the smell from the living room. They drink the water they’ve poured so far as a preemptive measure since despite the two digit number of buckets Sans fetched might not be enough for Frisk.

Once Aofil returns they find Frisk leaning back in the sofa with their mouth wide open. An exhausted grunt is the only thing exiting their mouth at the moment. They sound like a dying lawnmower.

“you sure you’re you?” Sans asks after returning from a shortcut. The lack of buckets in front of Frisk is a bit worrying, but the smell doesn’t seem to have set in yet. No way Aofil is cleaning up if Frisk vomits again, but they’re not gonna ask Sans to fetch back a few. It’s his gamble on removing them.

Frisk tiredly moves their eyes over to Aofil. Sans follows them, and after a second or so of them both looking at Aofil, they get the hint. They hand the pitcher over to Sans. “How far away do I need to be?”

“The kitchen?” Aofil asks Frisk directly.

Weak shake.

“Outside the kitchen?”

Weak nod.

“Alright then. Come get me when you two are done talking,” Aofil says to Sans. He winks as he puts his hand on Aofil.

A moment later they’re out at the backyard.

A moment after Aofil’s alone, with a small wind from Sans’ solo shortcut brushing against their leg. Aofil looks around for something to sit on. They find a folded sun chair propped up against the wall and flick it open. The plastic net composing the chair has a picture of Mettaton with his arms outstretched stitched in it. Aofil sits carefully down.

You never know with these monsters.

“Hey...”

Aofil looks over to their side.

“How are y-”

Immediately after they clutch their head with a groan. “Dammit!”

Undyne’s already sad smile melts quietly, and she pushes herself up from her side of the fence with a pained sigh. Aofil looks over again, but as they also spot Alphys gripping the door frame a bit further away, another wave of hurt floods throughout their skull like a tsunami wave.

They hear some subdued talking before the backdoor is closed on Alphys and Undyne’s house. Aofil bends over to better grip their head, but it still takes a full minute for the pain to even start to relax. They’re forced to wipe away a fair amount of sweat from their forehead.

“God fucking dammit,” they sigh.

Where is Sans? How long are the two of them gonna talk?

Sans doesn’t arrive for another couple of minutes, and when he does, his tired exhale competes with the wind his shortcut produces.

“kiddo’s asleep.”

He keeps staring out over the horizon with his hands in his pockets.

“Good?” Aofil asks, trying to get his attention.

“yup.”

Still staring.

“So, what did you two talk about? Is it Frisk that’s there?”

“yes, it’s frisk. a very tired and exhausted frisk, but still frisk. probably not gonna get proper sleep for a while after this, but that’s on them. might be a bit harsh, but at least they’ve learned not to do it again.”

“You think so?”

“no, but i’m gonna tell myself so. i’ve got plenty that i’m gonna take away from today already, so whatever i can tell myself not to, the better it’s gonna be for my shoulders to carry.”

The setting sun doesn’t seem to bother Sans. He keeps staring almost directly into it.

“Did they hear anything while they were gone?”

“everything, or so they told me.”

Aofil nods. “I see.”

“does it bother you that they do?”

“I don’t know, to be honest.” Aofil crosses their arms and sinks down into Mettaton’s embroiled embrace. “For now I’m just glad that they’re back.”

“you’re not bummed out that chara is gone?”

“Can’t tell right now.”

The open window is gently knocked on, and Sans turns his head around. He gestures with two fingers outstretched. Aofil can just barely hear the kitchen door closing.

“Who was that?”

“can’t tell.”

“Sans...”

“because then your head would hurt. i can tell you what it was that knocked on the window though. a claw.”

Aofil’s eyes widen, and they lean up towards the window. “They’re here? Already?”

“toriel’s pretty angry at me for not opening right away. almost knocked the door off its hinges. couldn’t let her hear what frisk had to say though, on their request, mind you. i only opened once they began to walk around the house.” Sans reaches into his pocket. “told them you were out here sleeping and that i’d try and wake you. they will find you fast asleep though should they poke their head out here.”

Aofil’s eyes snap towards Sans’ pocket.

“i’ll distract them for as long as possible, but you gotta have to do it right now, aof.”

Sans throws the memory box over to Aofil. It lands on their chest.

“i’ll check on you whenever i can, but you have to dive in alone. sorry.”

The window hits the wall behind Aofil as the wind from Sans’ shortcut pushes it.

Aofil puts their hand on the box, but as they do so, the world around them starts closing in. The bright and orange glow of the sunset becomes brighter. Warmer as well.

Not as warm as yesterday, but still, it’s a pretty nice day. Aofil regrets not putting on those over sized sunglasses as the midday sun blasts against their face and eyes. It’s been a while since they actually just sat back and enjoyed the day. They don’t know why, but these last few days they’ve felt like they have more energy somehow. Aofil squints while leaning over the side of their patio chair to fetch the newspaper.

The front page has a huge blurred picture of two large beings entering what seems to be the Town Hall.

Above it is a headline screaming in bold text

“Monsters are real!”

Huh...


	34. Starting off on the other foot

"Why is-"

The iron gate squeaks as it's opened.

Aofil walks with a perplexed look across the gravel path. Why is the pastor at their family grave? Is he about to spit on it or something? Why else would he be there?

The pastor tilts his head towards the sound of disturbed gravel. "Ah, Aofil. Welcome."

Aofil’s brow sinks further down. Pleasantries? From the pastor? Something is amiss here.

The pastor motions for the nearby bench. “Please, sit with me,” he invites with a warm smile.

Definitely amiss.

Aofil sits down next to the pastor, but not within arm’s reach. The pastor’s head is resting on his knuckles. His eyes are firmly fixed on the graves underneath the large aspen tree. Shadowy leafs dance on the grave as the wind picks up. The pastor folds his frock over his knees to stop it from blowing up. Aofil’s grateful for that. They’d rather he’d leave though before he starts convers-

“So, monsters exists.”

Oh well...

Aofil blows their lips in a sigh. “Yeah, they do.”

“And here I thought they were gone.”

“I mean, from what I’ve read they just came, and then went back. So maybe?”

The pastor scratches his chin while readjusting his back on the bench. “Did you perchance catch any glimpse of them?”

“Not in person, no.” Aofil leans back with their arms crossed.

“Are you absolutely sure?”

Aofil looks over to the pastor with an expression furrowed in confusion. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure. I think I’d know if I saw one. One is a skeleton though, so chances are greater that you’ve seen them than me.”

Aofil regrets the joke as soon as it leaves their lips. The pastor isn’t amused, not in the slightest.

“I’ve just been reading about them in the newspaper.” Aofil looks down in shame.

The pastor hangs his eyes on Aofil, running them all across Aofil’s face. To no avail, apparently, since he too looks down directly afterward.

“It was front page the day after they apparently emerged,” Aofil continues to explain after a short moment. “It has been it for the week too, I guess. To be fair, you have to be blind not to accidentally read the enormous headlines when passing your front door every morning.”

“The free one?” the pastor asks with a hint of disappointment in his voice. He looks over to Aofil as if he’s accusing them of something.

“Yeah,” Aofil shrugs. “I don’t really have a reason to unsubscribe from it. Makes for good tinder and white noise in the morning.”

“Good tinder during summertime...” The pastor tugs a quick smile, as if he’s trying to recover from something. “Fair enough of a reason, I guess.”

“Do you have a point,” Aofil shifts their eyes over to the pastor, slowly narrowing them as their contempt builds up, “or are you just looking for an opportunity to curse my family again?”

The pastor’s smile fades, and he again bends forward with his elbows on his knees and his forehead on his knuckles. He takes an unsteady breath, and mutters a quiet prayer. Aofil’s never heard it before, something about colors, and the void. Not that they’re perfectly familiar with any and all prayers to begin with, but this one sounds weird...somehow.

“Curse,” the pastor mutters. “Curse...” He looks over to Aofil. “Can I ask of you something, Aofil?”

Aofil’s not gonna dignify that with an answer.

The pastor doesn’t wait for one either. “Make the monsters pay for what they did.”

The growl in the pastor’s voice causes Aofil to jerk back. They’ve never heard him with such anger, such hate. The pastor’s eyes are burning behind a dark veil that’s taken hold over his face. “Promise me, Aofil. For everything.”

“W-what did the monsters do?”

The pastor turns around so that his back is facing Aofil. He lifts up his frock, exposing three long and thick scars running the entire length of his back. Three, what looks to be, deep rends. Like three belts, as if the pastor is some kind of commando. They’re old scars though, no way could the monsters have done that. They’ve only been here for a week or so. Not even that since they left almost as quick as they came! How did it heal so quick?

“Is it, is it magic?” Aofil asks with eyes wide as can be. “W-when d-did the monsters do this? They’ve only been here for a few days, and your scars look old. How did it happen?”

The pastor carefully rolls his frock down over his back again. The extruding scar tissue can be seen through the fabric. For years Aofil thought it was some stuffing or something embedded in his frock. How, when, could the monsters have done it? The monsters haven’t been hostile. Hell, they haven’t been on the Surface long enough to be hostile. They visited the Town Hall once, and then retreated back towards the mountain. Aofil’s seen news vans drive by their house for a couple of days now, and if they strain their eyes, they can almost make out silhouettes of humans up on Mt. Ebott. How the journalists got the equipment up there is beyond Aofil. Unless they found the old passage. How they would do that is even more beyond Aofil, so they’re left to ponder.

Even with so many journalists up there word still hasn’t trickled down. No monster has even greeted them. So, how and when would they have attacked the pastor? If the free newspaper is to be believed, they’ve already attacked our way of living. Sure, the newspaper talks about them like the end times, but Aofil’s learned to read between the lines, and opposite the lines, with it. Ever since the newspaper published their family’s death as an accident, Aofil’s not had the heart to unsubscribe from it. They know it’s complete trash, but once in a blue moon it was actually right about something.

Perhaps it’s time for another blue moon…

“I’ll tell you more when the time is right, Aofil.”

Aofil just now notices that the pastor has stood up, and is bowing his head down. He turns on his heel before Aofil has time to stand up as well. “What do you mean with that? What happened to your back? Can’t you tell me now?”

“No,” the pastor looks over his shoulder, “just like how you don’t teach kindergartens advanced trigonometry before they learn basic arithmetic. I’m sure you can understand that analogy, Aofil. It all depends on how the monsters act these coming weeks. There’s already talk about something in the coming future that may or may not involve you, Aofil. My belief is that you absolutely will be, that there is no may or may not. That’s why I’m telling you now to be careful around these monsters. They’ve been imprisoned by us humans, and there is no telling how they’ll take revenge on us because of that. You’ve already had one close call with them, Aofil.”

They have?

“There is also the matter of those who I suspect have had even closer calls with the monsters. Your sibling, for instance.”

Aofil snaps their head towards the graves. Have they?

“Not those,” the pastor informs with a soft and careful tone, “Your other sibling, from your other family.”

“What!” Aofil shakes their head in disbelief. “What the hell are you talking about? My other family?”

“You don’t remember, which is for the better. I will share with you more details if, and when, the time comes. Know that it is because of the monsters that you don’t remember. Take some time to process what I’ve said, you are going to need it if you are to hear the rest. There is going to be a trial in the future, Aofil, and I want you on our side.”

“Whose side?”

“Humanity’s.”

“But-”

The pastor puts a hand on Aofil’s shoulder, and they immediately tense up. It’s the same hand, on the same shoulder, that the pastor used to hold Aofil in place while he screamed in their face, while he cursed them out, while he pointed and scorned their parents. Now his hand feels warm, comforting, almost begging. His face is pleading too. Soft eyes filled with suppressed worry, and fear. The same fear the pastor had way back then, the sliver of humanity Aofil saw midst the rain, sweat, and words of hurt spewed from the mouth that is now smiling earnestly. It was hidden behind hate. Hate which is nowhere to be seen now. It’s comforting. How? Aofil doesn’t understand. They can only stare at the cheeks wrinkled from the smile.

A smile that’s fading into a frown filled with sorrow.

“Forgive me, Aofil. For all I’ve said.”

The pastor’s frown turns pained as he feels Aofil’s shoulders sink in confusion.

“The words I spoke about you, about your parents. For long I thought they had ties with the monsters. I thought that now that they’ve returned, that they would seek you out for sanctuary. That you...”

The pastor swallows hard to quell his throat from clogging up. Aofil can only stare, what is going on?

“Aofil, have you met the monsters?” the pastor asks again, tears building up in his eyes, tethering on falling. “Tell me the truth!”

“No, I haven’t,” Aofil answers again. “I’ve only read about them in the paper.”

The pastor needs a few moments for his newfound reality to sink in. It has caught up with him, and the pain clenches his hands. Aofil doesn’t feel him grasping their shoulders though, they’re too busy with trying to make sense of it all.

“Then I’ve let my wound cloud my judgment. My mind is scarred, just like my back. I thought I could leave that faithful day behind me, but still to this day the echoes still ring loud in my head, and pulsate on my back.”

The pastor looks over to the graves, but then averts himself quickly, as if he’s been blinded by the sight of the weathered stones. He inhales deeply, to collect himself. “Aofil,” he says with a voice shaking like the leafs on the overhanging aspen twig in the wind, “please forgive my words, and me.”

Just like that? Aofil can’t really produce an answer. It’s all so sudden, so wrapped up in all of the other things the pastor has said. So many strange things, and now he’s asking for forgiveness? Aofil can only stare blankly. Their mind can’t handle this right now. It’s-

“I understand.”

What?

The pastor nods. “I understand if you need time, Aofil. I’ve put a lot on your mind, but know that it is vital that you need to be eased into this. Otherwise you might...”

What?

“Otherwise you might do what I did, and blame humanity for the sins the monsters did.”

And with that, the pastor turns around, leaving Aofil standing in pure bewilderment. They can’t even reach over and ask the pastor what’s happening. Their body is too confused too move. Judging by the sobs, something heavy has been dug up. What does it have to do with Aofil though? And their family?

Once Aofil’s mind has settled on some form of temporary plateau, the pastor is already gone. Not many places he could go though, and if Aofil were to make an educated guess, he’d be inside his church.

Aofil has more pressing matters though, and they return their seat onto the bench.

“Been a while, hasn’t it?” they ask their family after a quiet minute of solemn thinking.

The aspen shakes gently in the wind.

“Yeah, I’ve no idea either what he was on about. My other family? Am I adopted?”

The aspen calms down.

“You’d tell me if I was, right? You did it to sister, so why not me? I mean, where else would I’ve gotten these cheeks if it wasn’t from you, mom?”

A gentle scoff from Aofil clears their mind a bit. No way that they’re adopted. Never have they met someone else with cheeks like them, or their mom. That’s at least something cleared up.

“And my other sibling? What’s up with that? Did I have an older sibling that moved away?” Aofil leans forward. “Do I still have an older sibling? Are they...”

The wind is silent.

“Are they still alive? Why didn’t they attend the funeral then? Did something happen between you and them, mom? Dad? Both?”

Still silent.

“Surely, neither of you would let them just move away like that? Nothing that bad could’ve happened that neither of you two could talk them out of it? Are they just sulking in some far away city, not wanting to reconcile? Not even with their own family?”

A gust of wind blows a handful of leafs into Aofil’s face. They sigh as it passes by them, and pluck a leaf away from their left cheek by the stem. It kinda looks like a green heart.

“Yeah, sorry. I let my mind race a bit, didn’t I? Can you blame me though? After all that the pastor said.” Aofil spins the leaf between their thumb and index finger. “I can never get a read on him, you know? Even worse now than before. Me having a close call with the monsters? I didn’t even know they existed last week! Jeez. I’d think I’d remember if I ever saw one. Especially like one of those big goat looking monsters. That’s not something you forget. Close call too with one? Man, what is the pastor doing in that church? Drinking a bit too much holy water, or taking in the incense a bit too much.”

Aofil shakes their head while looking over to the old church at the end of the graveyard. “I mean, how many times did we travel up Ebott, and even to that cave where the monsters supposedly came out of? Never did we see anything. Just jagged rocks. Not even another human!”

The stem snaps in two from Aofil twisting it so much. It’s carried away with the wind, and Aofil flicks the stem left in their hand over their shoulder. “Except that gorgeous sunset. Maybe I should run up there. I felt like I wanted it the day the monsters came out, but I couldn’t find my running shoes. Found the pair the day after, but by then the monsters were already here, and...”

Aofil rubs their chin while breathing through their clenched teeth. “...I’m not really sure if I really want to meet them. I’m curious what they’re planning down there, but it feels kinda, suspicious? Are they hiding something? Like, a plan to kill us all. I don’t know. Am I being racist?”

A single twig vibrates gently.

“Why else would they stay down there? If it is their prison, then why wouldn’t they want to escape it? Is it the sun? Is it humans? No one knows, and the monsters are not coming up to answer any questions. Maybe they’re afraid of us? We did put them there to begin with. That was a long time ago though, and magic isn’t used anymore. Did we even know magic? Why would we stop using it then! Everything’s just so confusing.”

The sound of Aofil smacking their palm against their forehead echoes throughout the otherwise quiet graveyard. “And then the pastor said something about a trial, and me being involved because I had met the monsters before? I just-”

Aofil blows their lips tiredly.

“I don’t know.”

They lean forward with their hands crossed over their legs, and with their head resting on the cross section. “I wish you were still here. Like I always do. Not a day passes by without me thinking about you. I’ve tried to keep the house in good shape, but I don’t really have the money for it. The silence isn’t helping either. You know all of this though. What is it now, the tenth time I’ve talked about it? Perhaps when it becomes three digits it might feel a bit better, but until then? I hope I’m not bumming you out though. I’m still promising that if something new happens, then you’ll be the first to know.”

The aspen is disturbed by a powerful breeze.

“I have to let it sink in with me first. Still, sorry I didn’t tell you directly about the monsters. Maybe you felt their magic or something? I don’t know...”

Aofil's sigh competes with the heavy wind dragging itself across the graveyard. It flurries up the aspen. Not a single leaf is left silent, and the collective dance rings loud. More than a few leafs are shaken loose, and fall like enormous and colorful snowflakes, covering the graves, the gravel, and Aofil.

“I don’t know.”

The leafs slid of Aofil’s head, the few that remain are shaken off by Aofil running their hand through their hair.

They look up the mountain, but can’t make out if there’s people on the plateau or not. The angle is too steep for Aofil to distinguish if it’s humans or tops of trees. With the wind swaying the trees Aofil can’t even rely on motion to tell them apart.

Their stomach rumbles. They have ways to go back home, so they should probably get a move on before it starts hurting. With a silent grunt they stand up, and brush whatever leaf that might be sticking on them still.

“I need to get going home. I’m still alive, so that means I still have to eat.”

The clouds above part ways, letting the sun shine down on the looming mountain. Aofil smiles solemnly at it.

“I’ve always wondered if our house would be in the shadow of Ebott if we were on the other side. You know, where our summer home is? Where our summer house was, maybe. I wonder if it’s still standing. Ebott shook pretty violently just before the monsters emerged, so perhaps that shifted the fault underneath the village. Speaking of that, it must’ve been scary when the measurements came back, right? I was playing around there! The entire ground could’ve sunk underneath my child weight!”

Aofil scoffs. “You’re so irresponsible, mom, dad! Letting your children play on top of a fault line. Jeez.”

Aofil’s stomach rumbles again. It stings a bit.

“I’ll see you later then.”

The iron gate squeaks as it’s closed.


	35. Reflecting on remembering

"My other family..."

Aofil unlocks the lever holding the backrest of their sun chair up. They quickly bend forward to unhook it, and then let their weight push the backrest down to a more horizontal position. They lock it in place, and put their arm behind their head.

It’s a nice day today. The sun’s shining, but just enough that it’s warm, and not overbearingly hot. Aofil’s wearing the over sized sunglasses. For two reasons. First one being that they’re a pair of sunglasses, and that the sun is out. Secondly, the bottom of the rim hides their overgrown lawn behind purple plastic.

Aofil reaches over to the table next to them. They find their glass of water with a cucumber slice in it. It’s refreshing, and by golly do they need it now. Not really because of the heat, but because of their head. They need to figure out what to do with everything they’ve learned these past days, and it’s better to do it while quenched.

These past days of frantic searching on whatever official website they can find that has any form of tangential connection to what the pastor said. Now that they’re sitting here, thinking back on it all, they’re not really sure if they made the right choice.

The pastor told Aofil that there was a box, told Aofil of what was in the box, and Aofil opened the metaphorical box. Now they can’t close it, they can never close it. Even if this whole monster situation turns out to be a farce, Aofil will still know things they’re probably gonna wish that they never did. Their mind is now burdened. A ball and chain has clamped shut, and Aofil has to drag it around for the foreseeable future. If whatever this trial turns out to be true, and that Aofil’s gonna be involved in it, then people are gonna want to tug at the chain. Aofil’s already dreading that day. If they’re lucky it might just not happen at all. If they were lucky they wouldn’t have known of it in the first place.

And just two weeks ago their biggest worry was running out of noodles.

"My other family…" Aofil sighs heavily.

It's been a week or so since Aofil went to visit their family. It’s been a week since the monsters went from reserved curiosity, to being the only thing on Aofil’s mind. That is, if what the pastor said was true about them. He was truthful about Aofil’s family alright, but…

No, Aofil can’t cross that bridge yet. Skipping right to that will only make their family matter matter even worse!

Let’s try again.

It’s been a week since the pastor went, what Aofil could only describe back then as, crazy. They had no idea whether he told any form of truth or not when they walked home. Their rumbling stomach didn’t help them come to any conclusion. As they prepared some of their last noodles, they couldn’t stop his voice echoing around in their head. His words, and how little sense they made.

If everything the pastor said was true, then it would mean that Aofil knows absolutely nothing of what they thought they did. In the pastor’s words, Aofil didn’t even know basic arithmetic. They searched their house, but from what they’ve found, or to be more specific, not found, nothing he said was true. They should’ve just left it very much alone at that point. The fact that they didn’t find anything directly, and that they had to actively search, and despite that, they couldn’t find anything.

That fact alone should’ve been enough for Aofil to declare that this is way too large for them. Too big for Aofil to ever handle properly if dug up.

Yet somehow, Aofil felt that they hadn’t looked enough. Something deep inside them still said that there were more to this story, that the pastor was indeed telling Aofil the truth. The thought didn’t strike them even tangentially once they got to searching. Something was encouraging them from within.

It didn’t feel good though, almost like a subtle form of nausea. The voice inside Aofil was so distant, so faint. Almost as it was someone else. It didn’t feel as someone else though, it felt like Aofil’s own thoughts, just not in their head. Luckily the nausea was just as faint, but it was there. Both of them were there, even though they felt like a sigh inside a hurricane.

It hasn’t gone away, even after the things Aofil’s learned. Same thing with the energy they’ve felt ever since the monsters appeared. Aofil’s been doing stuff. Actual stuff. Progress. Bought food other than noodles. Food that’s taken effort to make. They’ve went through and researched what the pastor said, instead of shrugging it off like they did before. They went to visit their family. Previously they’ve dreaded to even imagine walking over there, but last week they just went. Aofil put on their shoes, and just went. They still dreaded meeting their family, but not in the same way. As if their family would be disappointed in them. Aofil thought about themselves, reflected on what they’ve done. Not done, to again be specific.

They even thought about running!

And they put slices of cucumber in their water that they’re again drinking!

What is going on?

It tastes great! Aofil appreciates it! They should do it all the time!

With an exhale that’s halfway between a sigh and a raspberry, Aofil puts down the glass on the table again. Their sunglasses almost slip off their face as they shake their head at it all.

Is it a coincidence that Aofil actually started doing things the day the monsters arrived? Or it is something else? Is it the monsters’ doing? Is it magic?

Aofil closes their eyes, and sink down into their sun chair. Maybe they should try asking that faint feeling inside them. If it had answers for their family, maybe it has answers about the monsters?

…

…

What is Aofil doing? Asking a small voice inside them for advice? For help in sorting out their mind? Asking voices inside themselves is the complete opposite of that! What? Are they crazy? Talking with their dead family crazy?

Aofil rubs their templates. Apparently they are. No idea trying to get an answer now though, they’ve made themselves aware of how stupid this whole ordeal is, so trying to focus now would be futile.

It’s like when one becomes aware of one’s own nose in their field of vision. Time just have to pass before one forgets that it’s there again.

Aofil sighs irritably. What would that voice inside them be even? Their gut feeling? Their soul? The spirits of their dead family?

The more Aofil looks, the deeper the hole is, apparently. Every time they thought that it couldn’t be any worse, Aofil looked a bit more and yup, it got worse. From their family, all the way to that name.

That name…

A name that Aofil can’t remember ever knowing, despite them wrapping their head around it like an over eagerly made Christmas present. Still, nothing. Aofil lets the name bounce around in their head again, but no, nothing. Nothing that rings a bell.

Aofil swallows some more water. They fish out the slice of cucumber with their tongue as well, and fold it with the back of their teeth. They wonder if they should put a couple of slices on their eyes to alleviate their tiredness. They haven’t gotten a single good night’s rest the entire week. Too many loud thoughts keeping them awake. Questions about, well, everything. What does it all mean? How does it connect to the monsters? Why Aofil? Why now? Why not a couple of years ago? Why not a couple of years in the future?

The question that rings loudest though, the one that has Aofil uncomfortable in their own house. The question that gave answers, but not the answers Aofil wanted. A dozen lesser questions answered, but another huge one has replaced them. Many drops make an ocean. Aofil could live with the drops though. Now they’re alone, bobbing nervously up and down amid a vast open ocean. Dark water all around them, stretching like the infinite underneath them, and no land in sight. They have to be careful not to drown, not let the question overtake them.

Why doesn’t Aofil remember?

It wasn’t even what Aofil set out to search, yet they still found it.

The morning after the pastor talked to Aofil, the morning after a restless night, where Aofil first started to feel that distant voice inside them. The quiet around them was enough for them to hear it. Hear how it wandered back in forth, trying to make sense of it all. It was conflicted, still is conflicted. More so than before? That Aofil can’t tell. All they know is that it kept them up, kept them from sleeping. The words of the pastor echoing through their mind didn’t help the situation.

Be it because of their sleepiness messing with their thoughts, or be it their curiosity washing over them. If Aofil were to guess, it was probably both. Really, asking why isn’t what led them to finding out, it was asking how.

Aofil started searching around the house. They went through everything they can think of, folders, papers, phone numbers, yet they found nothing. No evidence of them having another family. There were no adoption papers, at least, not for Aofil though. Their brother and sister’s were neatly ordered in their parent’s office. Everything was on the documents. Birthday, reason for abandonment, name, health records.

Links to the government’s website along with credentials to access the online portal.

Aofil remember how strange the paper started to feel in their hands after they read through those adoption documents. Anxiety flushed over them, and that nausea started manifesting. Almost like the papers were laden with poison. Aofil wasted no time though, and quickly rushed over to their computer.

The credentials were still accepted, albeit after a couple of days waiting for a security code to be delivered to their home. The worst waiting Aofil’s ever had. Will ever have, probably. With the code in hand though they were granted access. It felt strange seeing that green verification mark, and the myriad of links along with their dad’s name being greeted in the top left corner.

Their hand hesitated. Aofil can’t really put their finger on why, but for some reason, they dreaded what lurked behind those links present.

Almost as if they already knew what they would see.

Aofil searched their own name, and to their delight, it showed their birth certificate. Their mother’s name, and signature, along with their father’s name, and signature. Barely readable, but that only confirmed it more for Aofil.

The parents that Aofil buried are their own, no doubt about it.

For some reason that didn’t make Aofil any happier. Not in the slightest. Couple that with the fact that they could still use their late parents’ credentials to look up their deaths…

Aofil had to walk away for a bit. Walk over to the bathroom, and splash some cold water in their face. And some more. And some more.

They held their hands up to their face the last time, could it be five or six. Aofil didn’t count, they were too busy to. Their hands hid their reflection in the sink mirror from themselves. Their tears mixed with the water, diluting the salt as it reached Aofil’s lips. They could still taste it though.

It took some time for them to remind themselves that they had to keep searching. If they’d known fully what they’d find they’d taken a lot longer to prepare, and even then, that wouldn’t have been enough.

As Aofil returned to their birth certificate, they noticed something. Above their birth certificate was a number.

A number that wasn’t one.

An arrow in the lower left hand corner of the website brought them to another certificate. The first one. Of a sibling born before Aofil. A couple of minutes, in fact. The same sloppy handwriting from their father above his name. The same for their mother. The same hospital, the same room, the same doctor, and the same midwife.

Above all of those was the largest name.

The name of their parents’ firstborn, who came before Aofil.

The name of Aofil’s twin.

Chara.

Just the thought of it makes Aofil feel ill all over. The fact that it’s actually real…

Aofil tries to quell their nausea with some more water.

They have a twin.

Had a twin.

Chara was reported missing years ago, according to the government’s website. Presumed dead. No body recovered. Not a sign after Aofil’s parents reported Chara gone. Aofil has a dead twin they know nothing about.

What the actual fuck?

They had a twin for years, but they can’t remember anything. No face, no voice, not even the name. It’s just blank. For Aofil, seeing that birth certificate was the first time they saw that name. A stranger that Aofil’s never heard of. Apparently they’re twins though.

Surprise, surprise!

If there’s the thinnest of silver linings though is that Aofil now understands why the wall separating two of the upstairs bedroom have the thinnest of walls. Must’ve been one big room to begin with.

A silver lining is pretty hard to distinguish if the entire sky is covered in black clouds though. Vicious, bellowing clouds indicating that a storm is coming. A storm Aofil’s never seen before. Now they have to face it with an umbrella that turned out to be a broken one made out of nothing. No grasp to be had, not on what Aofil thought they could stay dry with. Rainy days ahead.

Aofil sighs until their lungs start to burn in pain.

Rainy days ahead.

So why can’t Aofil remember? Who is Chara? Why can’t they remember Chara? Aofil tries to run through their entire childhood, but there is no twin with them. Only Aofil. Aofil was the only child. Until their sister and brother were adopted, that is. That wasn’t until later though. The date of Chara’s disappearance wasn’t when they were a baby. They were a child, almost a grown child at that.

Still nothing. Still no voice to associate with the name. Still no face to associate with the voice.

Aofil turns their head around in the sun chair. They catch their reflection in the dirty kitchen window.

They were twins, so...

“Greetings, I’m Chara!”

Nope, still nothing. Why Aofil thought that looking at an adult would somehow summon a child’s face they can’t really tell. What’s the odds that Chara would look the same as Aofil though? If they were identical, yes, but what if Chara wasn’t even the same sex as Aofil? What if Chara looked more like their dad instead of their mom? What if-

As Aofil turns their head back they think themselves see a yellow flower move, but it was only the wind. They sink back down into their chair.

So much is on their mind, it feels like it’s gonna explode. Would probably take out the entire neighborhood if it did. People would wonder if Ebott shook again, only to find crumbled houses with a crater at Aofil’s.

Would it be called Crater Ebott?

Now Aofil’s head is hurting even more…

Crater Ebott at their normal house, Ebott Fault at their summer home.

Their summer home…

Aofil flies out of their chair. The sunglasses slid off in the hasty jump, and bounce against the hard tiled floor of the patio. They don’t break, but the glass takes some pretty nasty scratches. The water in their hand splashes all over Aofil, but the fact doesn’t reach their head. It’s too clogged with the thought that suddenly rushed them.

Their summer home! It was abandoned after Chara disappeared? Maybe there’s some stuff there about them? Their parents didn’t really bring a lot from it when they abandoned it. Should be loads of stuff still there. perhaps even something about Chara. Aofil’s parents owned it before they, and Chara, were born, so they had to have visited there at least once. If Aofil’s memory serves them correctly, that is. These last few days have proven that to be quite the opposite though.

Dammit.

Can they even believe anything they thought about their childhood? Was there even a summer home? Was there a fault line underneath, threatening to split open and swallow the community whole? Was it there Chara disappeared?

The nausea inside Aofil grows.

That means that they’re on the right path? Yes, it has to be! They felt it when they saw Chara’s name for the first time, so their summer home making them feel nauseous too must mean that the two are connected.

Aofil nods to themselves.

They have to do this!

They don’t even bother folding up their sun chair back again, this is way too important for the first step to be folding back the sun chair.

No, the first step is getting up to the attic. The key has to be there somewhere. It’s where their parents put whatever handful of things they brought with them, so it has to be there. It’s not in the office, the wall mounted key box next to the door, nor in the basement.

All signs point upwards.

And the dust collected during the year of absences fall downwards onto Aofil as they open the hatch leading to the attic. They cough out as much as they can, and afterwards they pull their chirt up over their mouth. It might not help much, but it’s something.

The attic is dark. They should’ve brought a flashlight, come to think of it. The ones they have don’t have any batteries though, so that might’ve been good to have thought of before.

Oh well.

With their hands in front of them, Aofil stumbles through the rubble of boxes and bags. None catches their eye though. All are things they’ve carried up there.

They have to go deeper. Deeper mean older, right?

Wait, what’s this? A chest? A wooden chest?

Aofil doesn’t recall anything about an old wooden chest. It has their name written in felt pen though. They didn’t write it though.

If they don’t remember anything about it...perhaps…

The floor underneath the chest creaks loudly as Aofil drags it closer to them. It opens easily after Aofil undoes the locks on each side with a satisfying clunking sound. Inside appears some toys, old dolls, striped shirts and sweaters. A jeweled case lies buried underneath a couple of stuffed animals.

Inside the case is a mirror. Seems to be a bit stained. No keys though. Aofil puts the case back, and to the side, and keeps on digging.

At the bottom is another metallic case. Small, like a match box. Sounds like a match box too when Aofil shakes it. They flip the lid open, and close their fist in joy and eagerness.

Keys.

There’s even a plastic tag attached to the key ring, and it says ‘Summer Home’.

Even better.

In their eagerness, Aofil closes the lid down a bit too quickly. Dust spews up like a volcano, and they start coughing, which causes even more dust to whirl up around them, which causes them to cough more and-

They gotta get out of there!

With the key ring clutched in their hand, Aofil starts inching their way back. Their hand comes dangerously close to scraping up splinters from the untreated floor, but to their luck their skin remains intact all the way back down the stairs leading down.

Aofil quickly yet carefully, as to not cause more spillage of dust than is absolutely necessary, tiptoes into the bathroom. There they try and shake off all the dust off them. They manage to get most of it off, but taking a shower would be futile now. They’re about to head to their abandoned summer home, so ruining another set of clothing is just wasteful. It’s not like anyone will see them covered in dust and think that they’re a murderer or something.

Aofil washes the dust on the floor away with the shower, and then heads down to the kitchen. They fill a water bottle, and fetch some easy to eat biscuits from the overhead cupboard. Their old schoolbag seems to be intact enough to survive the trek around the mountain, and Aofil fills it with the water and biscuits before throwing it over their shoulder. Running shoes on in the hallway, and then they open their front door.

Looks to be cloudy in a bit, but that’s alright with Aofil. Less sun to sting their eyes. They lock the door behind them, and head off to Mt. Ebott.


	36. A past experienced

"Wow..."

Disrepair is a word very well used to described what Aofil's seeing, and that’s just what they can spot from inside the forest leading up to the village from Mt Ebott. It’s not far now, just a couple more minutes of walking left. Aofil takes out another biscuit out of the package to eat.

As they emerge from the tree line they finally get a good view of the actual state their summer home community is in. The half eaten biscuit falls out of their mouth hanging open in stunned disbelief.

"Wow!"

Derelict is a better words to describe the state their old summer home community is in. Despite the shadow of Mt Ebott laying thick like a horizontal drape, Aofil can still make out every detail of the houses that have stood abandoned for God knows how long. Well, Aofil knows for how long. A good estimate, at least. That it’s fallen this much into rot and dishevel seems a bit odd though. Like, a couple of decades more of decay is at display before them. How is that even possible? It’s almost more overgrown than the forest they just exited, and that has stood for forever. Almost.

Twisted vines climb desperately up the walls of the worn houses, as if to get away from the muddled ground drained of both color and life. It’s not gravel covering the ground. Rather, it looks like wilted...everything. Grass, flowers, even the rocks to a degree. Like every ounce of life has been sapped away, or sucked into a vacuum, or something. Aofil’s baffled by it all, they’ve never seen something like this before. To think that they once lived here…

Is it because of the gas pockets around the fault line? Aofil remembers their parents talking about it before, but surely that can’t be the case.

Or perhaps?

Aofil carefully smells the air. It doesn’t smell dangerous. It smells bad, but that could be them after this trek they’ve done, or the wilt from the houses, or whatever. It doesn’t smell like gas though, which is very important. Should be safe enough to be here. The first sign of something feeling wrong Aofil’s gonna get out of here though. There’s gas a plenty that can kill, yet doesn’t smell. If it were gas here it would’ve leaked into the forest, yet Aofil can’t see any animal corpses lying around. Very strange.

Strange is kinda the word to describe these last few weeks though. Strange bordering on absurd. Majority being absurd, around ninety percent or so, with just a small bit resting on strange. Depending on what Aofil finds here, it might very well tip the scales. It could be equivalent of smashing the scale with a hammer, or it could just not be anything. Either way is uncomfortable to think about for Aofil.

Horrible if they find anything about Chara, horrible if they don’t. One means that they will find what they’re looking for. If they really want to find it is another question altogether. A question which Aofil’s already has the answer for.

No. A big no. Biggest they can muster.

It might even be worse if they don’t find anything. Then they have to search further, outside of their own reach. Involving other people can bode nothing but bad since Aofil will be asking about their dead twin that they have no idea about. The pastor knows more, but he hasn’t been answering Aofil calls this week. Nor has he showed himself at his church. Just a sign hung on the large front door.

‘Out on business.’

Sure he is… Sure he is…

The smell is getting a bit more bite to it as Aofil approaches the houses. It smells off. As in, not right. Not something you want to wake up to. They still can’t really place their finger on it. It’s not a strong smell though, and even the briskest of tailwinds pushes it away. Aofil should still be careful. The last thing they want to do is collapse at an abandoned village where no one has been for ages. No one knows that Aofil’s even here, and they’re not gonna come rushing to save them if anything happens. It’s gonna be a long while before anyone even notices that Aofil’s gone.

Aofil puts their hand on a nearby tree for support. They take a steadying breath as they’re hit with a gust of wind on their back. No smell, just clean mountain air. Fresh, reinvigorating. Aofil can do this.

They exhale, and push away from the tree.

Just a few steps later they start to feel something creep up on them. Or someone... They turn around, but they’re alone. Not an animal in sight even, much less a human.

Or a monster.

…

What? Why would there be a monster here? They’re all in their Underground. When would one get here too? Aofil saw half a crowd of journalists waiting eagerly on the plateau as they diverged from their secret path up Mt Ebott. No way in hell that a monster could slip by without being chased by a screaming myriad of journalists. Aofil would’ve heard them if that was the case, but all they can hear now is the wind moving through the forest. Not as loud as it would through the aspen at the graveyard, but still enough for Aofil to notice that it’s there.

No monsters can be here, no.

The fact leaves Aofil a bit… disappointed?

Why?

They didn’t dedicate any thought about the monsters earlier today when they decided to travel here, nor any on the way here, so why now that they are here? Why are Aofil thinking about the monsters now that they’ve arrived here? So weird.

And speaking of weird.

Aofil stops a few meters from the house closest to them. The vine creeping up it is almost yellow in color, as if it’s struggling to even survive. It’s slithering up the walls like a drunk snake. Weaving back and forth, up and down, side to side, and in some places it even goes back, only to grow over itself as it returns to growing up. In some places it even ends abruptly, only to sprout out from a ways back in on itself. The edges of where it stopped are black and shriveled. Aofil’s seen pieces of coal with more luster than the vine’s endings.

What really catches Aofil’s eyes though, and what stopped them in their tracks, is how the vine grows around the corner of the house.

Aofil runs their finger across it from top to bottom, but they don’t feel any bumps going from the wood of the house to the stem of the vine. It’s smooth.

The vine has filled some tears on the corner. The shape of them look familiar, but Aofil’s not sure-

No…

Aofil takes a step back.

How?

Three long and thick scars run diagonally across, and around, the corner. Three, what looks to be, deep rends. The vine, with its color and fabric so different to the wooden walls, look like scars.

The same scars as the pastor’s.

Aofil looks back towards their city, towards the church. Was it the same monster? Was it the same time? Why here though? Why at Aofil’s summer home?

And how could the pastor even let himself get hurt like that?

Yeah.

…

Wait. No? Yes?

Did the pastor battle with the monsters? What is Aofil thinking? Like, actual fighting? Fist versus claw fighting?

Again, how could he have lost against a monster?

He must’ve killed it. Or maybe the monster ran away? Why didn’t the pastor chase the kill though?

Aofil puts the flat of their hand up against their forehead. What the hell is going on in there? What’s all this about monsters all of a sudden? Worryingly so.

Is it the gas?

Aofil should get out of here. This was a bad decision. They need to leave before it’s too late.

It’s not gas though.

Why not?

Because it’s because of the monsters. It’s because of the monsters that Aofil’s feeling this way. Not gas, monsters.

Aofil removes their hand from their head.

It’s not gas that’s doing this to them.

It’s something caused by the monsters. It’s not gas, it’s magic. If it was gas then…

It’s not gas. Aofil repeats it to themselves. It’s not the gas, it is magic. It’s from the monsters. They’ve done some horrid stuff to Aofil, to the pastor, to the humans.

Aofil’s not even tired. Quite the opposite, in fact. They feel fresh, like they didn’t just walk for a couple of hours across mountain terrain. Gas would’ve made them feel worse, not better. It’s good that they came here, it’s good that they’re searching. They will find something about their twin here. They know it. They feel it deep inside them that Chara’s been here. Everything’s gonna be good. They’ll search their house and find all the answers about Chara.

Monsters too. Aofil needs to find out. They need to know everything. Aofil needs answers.

They deserve answers!

If what the pastor said about the monsters intentions are correct, then Aofil must be prepared. Chara’s the key to this. Aofil can put two and two together. It will all add up.

They tug at their backpack, rearranging it to comfortably rest on Aofil’s now rolled back shoulders. They feel so confident about this. How could it be wrong? Every part of them wants to find out. They just have to find it.

And what better place to start, where no other place is like?

Home.

The plaque next to the door is rusty, with some struggling green covering it. Aofil brushes the filth away as best as they can. It’s still rusty, but now it’s readable. Barely readable. Enough to make out the majority of the letter of Aofil’s last name though. They read it out loud to themselves.

Yup, sounds just the same as it’s always been. How would it sound with Chara name? Aofil wonders. They tap the plaque with two of their fingers.

“Chara-”

The plaque falls off the wall as the screws holding it in place has degraded to the point that even Aofil’s nonchalant tap loosened them from the wall.

Well that completely ruined the mood.

The holes left behind are not a pretty sight to see. Aofil’s can’t determine if the murk left behind in the plank is from the screws, or if it is the plank rotting from the inside.

With a quick tug on the side of the plank, Aofil confirms their suspicion. Without even putting in that much of an effort, the plank loosens from the wall. It squeaks loudly as it’s unmounted. Aofil gives it a slight push outwards, causing it to pivot towards the ground. As the corner closest to Aofil hits the ground the other end is shaken loose from the wall, and also falls down onto the grumpy grass with a dampened thud. The plank lands backside up, exposing rusty and crooked nails.

“Alright then.”

Aofil flips it over with their foot so that the nails point down into the dirt instead of in the air where they could potentially lodge themselves into Aofil’s foot. They’d rather not, if they could afford the luxury not to.

They also pick up the plaque from the ground, and place it inside the long exposed hole. They lodge the top of it underneath the plank above the hole. Should sit still there for the time being.

Now, what about inside?

Aofil tucks in their right arm underneath the shoulder strap of their backpack, and fling it around their left shoulder. They open the biggest section, and put their hand down to retrieve their key.

They regret that decision less than a second after.

“The hell!” Aofil shouts as they jerk their hand back from inside the backpack. They look down into the backpack with a disgusted look twisting the entirety of their face. Once again they put their hand inside, but this time extremely carefully.

They retrieve the biscuit packet, which has gone soft and crummy. The remaining food inside it is everything but edible.

What?

Aofil had one just a couple of minutes ago, and that one was fine. What the hell happened to the rest of them?

Magic.

Magic?

Magic.

Damn monsters, spoiling Aofil’s food. If they were responsible for this, then surely they must be responsible for all the decay around them as well. If Aofil can prove that in the upcoming trial it could mean a hefty lawsuit to follow.

The monster will pay, literally as well.

Aofil discards the biscuit package in a nearby plastic bowl. They’ll check on it once they’re done inside, see if’s gone worse.

Their water seems to be fine though, although it tastes a bit less. How in the world water could taste less than water is a bit of a mystery.

Unless it’s magic.

Which it is.

Not gas, magic. Didn’t Aofil just accept that already?

With a couple of violent shakes, Aofil manages to clean the key as much as possible. Enough for them to hold it normally, and they insert it into the lock.

Halfway through turning the lock open the key is stuck. Aofil tries to turn it back, but it’s almost as if it’s fused solid. They tug and angle it every way imaginable, but to no avail. The lock and key are one now, together as one. What was used to unlock has now been used to further lock.

Aofil wonders if the situation they’re in is ironic or not.

They decide to go with the third option instead, and just make the question obsolete.

They step one foot back, and lunge it against the door. The impact forces the lock through the murky wood it was attached to in the wall, and the door swings open violently. Crashing against the inner wall, and swirling up an incredible amount of dust in the process.

Aofil stands still, staring into the dust ridden hallway.

Why did they decide to kick the door?

To get inside, obviously.

Yes, but why did they decide that so rapidly? Almost as if the key getting stuck was just an excuse for them to force it in like this?

What does it matter, really? They’re allowed inside now, and wasn’t that the point?

Aofil shrugs, guess it was. They can’t deny that it felt really good kicking the door in. Very good, in fact. They should do it more often.

Their shirt will have to suffice as a filter against the dust, and Aofil steps carefully in with the fabric tugged up over their nose and mouth.

Where to begin looking?

Aofil hazards a guess towards the master bedroom.

The door needs a good forceful shoulder before it opens, and another wave of dust crashes over itself as it’s flung open. Aofil stumbles inside, almost falling over from putting a bit too much force into their tackle. They quickly regain their balance, and begin their search.

A few minutes of opening nothing but empty wardrobes and nightstands lowers Aofil’s excitement a bit, but as they fumble on the top layer of the wall mounted shelf, their hand finds something.

A photograph. Covered in dust like everything else.

It’s a picture of Aofil’s family.

All four of them.

Two adults.

Two children.

Two twins.

One is Aofil.

The other…

Aofil rubs the dust off the glass with the end of their shirt to get a better look.

Chara looked exactly like them.

Same hair color and style, same fair skin, same blossoming cheeks.

Aofil brushes one of their own. That’s weird, it’s hot. Their cheek is hot. Warmer than the rest of their face by a good margin. Not burning hot, but hot nonetheless.

Is it the dust around them? Are they allergic? Maybe that’s why their parents left? No, that doesn’t make sense. They would’ve sold the house then, not just abandon it. No, it has to have been the magic, and the monsters.

Aofil returns their eyes to the photograph. They almost forgot about it completely. Their head is so full of magic and monsters, it seems so insignificant that they found this picture. It’s not though, Aofil knows it. They don’t feel it though. Why is that? This should’ve jogged their memories, if they had any of Chara.

Did they come all the way out here for nothing?

No! There has to be something else!

Aofil chucks the photograph onto the hastily covered bed. It lands in a lake of dust, and creates a small splash before settling down after a few bounces. Aofil again searches through whatever they can find. They even drag up a nearby chair to see if there’s anything more on the top shelf.

Nothing. Just dust.

Room after room. Dust after dust. Cupboards fly open, wardrobes are ripped open in an ever increasing anger. Empty, empty, empty. Everything’s empty!

Why? It was supposed to be here! Why isn’t it here?

The mental anguish they’ve suffered this week was supposed to end here!

If there’s nothing in this god forsaken house of theirs, then there must be something else in one of the other houses. Aofil’s gonna go through each and everyone of them to the last crevice!

With heavy steps they storm out of their summer home, with eyes fixed on the one next to theirs. Just across that wilted patch of flowers.

They can’t believe this.

The ground underneath Aofil’s feet turn soft as they approach the wilted patch.

They’ve done all they were supposed to, but still they’re here, empty handed.

The soft ground gives way to gravel like mud.

Chara was supposed to be here! If not that, then at least something about the monsters!

The gravely mud sinks deep underneath Aofil’s feet. They don’t care though. Their entire being is screaming for answers. They’re driven forward by a feeling that’s swelling up inside them. It’s warm, and it’s spreading all around inside them. Aofil feels strong. They’re gonna get to the bottom of this!

They are filled with determination!

Aofil stops as they reach the center of the patch. The flowers below them are bent. Bent into a shape, a form of a child. A human child. Aofil dries the dust away from their cheek. It is scolding hot, but it’s not to Aofil’s concern.

Because it’s all fallen into place now.

The silhouette at their feet must’ve been Chara’s. Killed by a monster attack. An attack that caused the abandonment of the houses around Aofil.

Aofil’s finally found Chara, and to that, they can only say one thing.

“Pathetic.”

How could Chara die to a monster? They must’ve been weak to have fallen to a monster. It’s good that Aofil never found out until now. Probably couldn’t have lived with the shame knowing that their twin, which was their mirror copy, died to a monster.

No wonder Aofil’s parents didn’t want Aofil to find out.

A chuckle escapes Aofil. A loud chuckle, that almost immediately turns into a bellowing roar. All of this searching, all of this worry, and they’re left with an answer so absurd that it’s gonna not only tip the scale of the word of the week, but flip the entire table as well.

Aofil scoffs one last time. A monster. What a joke.

“C-Chara?”

Aofil turns around. At the end of the flower patch is a flower. The surprise of seeing one combined with the surprise of being surprised of seeing a flower in a flower patch doesn’t have time to hit Aofil, as the yellow Flower produces a face.

“C-Chara?” it speaks.

A monster?

“I-It’s me C-Chara. Y-your best f-friend.”

Aofil feels their cheeks tug at their lips.

Good.


	37. The evil twin

"H-how did you get here?"

Aofil feels their smile widen. "Oh, I just walked here," they answer. "Just a nice afternoon stroll, you know?"

The flower looks around, clearly confused about what's going on. It seems to have also confused Aofil for Chara. Why a monster would know of Chara's name is interesting to say the least. Very interesting to be closer. It said that it was Chara’s best friend too.

Very, very interesting.

“Walked?” the flower cocks its...head? It clearly has a face. A quivering, confused, and most importantly, scared face. It’s probably well aware how weak it is compared to a human such as Aofil. Great, so it knows its place. Maybe Aofil can ask it some questions about the other monsters. Not for now though, they’re gonna enjoy playing with their prey for a while.

“Yeah, I walked,” Aofil answers again. “Went from home to here.”

“Home?” the flower coughs out violently. “You mean, with our parents? Do they know about you?” The flower lowers its head, averting its gaze as tears starts to form in its eyes. “Do they know about me?” it asks hesitantly.

“Haven’t seen your parents.”

Aofil isn’t lying.

“What about the other child? Frisk? I...I didn’t replace you, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s just...” The flower swallows hard as it stumbles on its words. Aofil raises an eyebrow, and beads of sweat starts oozing out of the flower’s face.

“Just what?” Aofil pries, making sure to sound as disappointed as possible.

“I...”

Aofil hardens their gaze.

“I’ve missed you so much!” the flower cries out. Tears are flooding the ground below it. Its sobs echo throughout the empty homes and forest. The pained breathing is nothing short of pathetic.

Aofil scoffs.

What an absolute crybaby.

Aofil should just kill it. One less crybaby in the world, and better yet, one less monster in the world. It’s just in their way at this point. Keeping it alive could be more valuable though. It seems to have bonded with Chara, and also seems to believe Aofil to be Chara. That could prove useful. Perhaps Aofil can get some information out of it. If not, then Aofil will at the very least enjoy playing with it for a while before they kill it. Does it even know that Chara has died? Obviously not, how else would it have mistaken Aofil for their twin.

The flower catches Aofil looking down on the silhouetted shape in the wilted flower patch. “I-is that why you’re here?” it asks in between its sobs. “Your dead twin?”

Aofil snaps their head towards the flower. Twin? Chara’s twin? Aofil? Is it...is it their silhouette in the flowers? No...can’t be.

“S-sorry if that sounded harsh, C-Chara. I’m,” the flower looks down at its stem, “I’m not used to talking to anyone that I actually care about. Please,” the flower grits its teeth hard and closes its eyes equally as hard, “forgive me.”

As the flower tries to hold in the awful sounding sobs it produces, Aofil turns back to the outline of a child in the almost rotten flower patch right next to them. Is it them? Is it their own shape? They’re alive though. How is it even possible? What about Chara then? Are they still alive? Where then? In the Underground?

How else could they have come in contact with this monster? What did it mean by ‘our parents’? Did Aofil have a second sibling? Did they have a monster? This monster? A flower?

“Our parents,” Aofil says carefully. “Where are they? Who are they?”

The flower’s sobs stop as soon as it hears the question. It glances over silently. Fear stretching over its face like a rubber fabric about to burst. “You,” it leans back, “you don’t remember? About Toriel? Asgore?”

Aofil doesn’t shake their head, nor do they nod. They just move it back to the shape underneath them.

Those names aren’t of their own parents. Aofil does faintly recognize the names though. From where though? Aofil puts their hand up to their forehead. They rub it as they think. Toriel. Asgore. They swear they’ve heard those names before, but from where?

Their eyes shoot wide open.

The paper! They’ve read something about those names. Something important. Asgore and Toriel were a couple. An important couple.

“The king and queen!” Aofil exclaims while snapping their fingers. Yes, the king and queen of the monsters!

A long sigh of relief bursts out of the flower. “Oh good, you remember, Chara. I guess you came back akin to how I did. Not remembering is pretty scary, but I’ll help you remember all the good times we had. It’ll be just like before, Chara. We’ll be best friends again!” The flower summons a smile so bright it could be renamed a sunflower. The smile fades a bit though, and the flower scratches one of its petals with its leaf. “Why are you an adult though?”

“What do you mean?”

“I...maybe your human souls continued to age, or something? I don’t know. It doesn’t really matter to me. I’m fine with you being whatever age. You should be stronger now, right? Since you’re an adult now, and all that. I remember you saying that you could easily wipe the entire Underground out if you wanted when we were about to sleep one night. It was a bit...weird.”

Aofil cocks their head.

The sudden tilt sends a ripple through the flower. It bites its lips while staring at Aofil. Almost as if cowering under Aofil’s presence. Which is good, as it’s supposed too be cowering.

“Hahaha,” the flower laughs unconvincingly, “I didn’t mean weird as in you being weird, just that what you said kinda came out of left field, you know? We had just come back from the training with the old turtle, Gerson, and you just spurted that out. I know you’d never do it, never without a very good reason, that is. Are…are you planning on doing it now? I’m with you if you want.”

The flower waits for Aofil to answer, but Aofil just keeps their eyes hardened, and their head tilted to the side. The flower starts shaking more and more with each passing second, until it finally bursts into a wide and crooked smile fueled by the deepest fear Aofil can imagine. Which again, is absolutely fantastic. If it’s this easy to make the monsters cower, then Aofil is gonna have no problem putting the rest of the monsters under their boot, where they belong.

If Aofil has put two and two together correctly, then it appears that Chara had some form of relationship with Toriel and Asgore. The queen and king of the Underground. With Aofil being their twin and all, perhaps they can utilize their likeness. Aofil, ruler of the Underground. It has a nice ring to it. Aofil might be biased, but if you’re the ruler, you’re allowed to.

Would Aofil want to rule over such a weak race though? Probably not.

“I’m behind you if you want to,” the flower reminds. “I’m always behind you, Chara. You just say the word, and I’ll do it. Just like before. It’ll be just like before! Mom, dad, there’s no one that I’ll allow to stand in your way. You’re the only one I care about in this miserable world, Chara. You and me, no one else. No one else to tell us what do to. You don’t even have to make me Asriel again. If you want me to be like this, then I’ll be like this. For you, I’ll be anyone, and I’ll always be your best friend.”

Aofil raises an eyebrow at that promise. “Anyone?”

“Yes!” the flower nods ecstatically. “Anyone!”

“Even me?”

The flower freezes. “Y-y-you?” it sputters after a couple of short chokes of its words.

“Show me who Chara was while living with you and Toriel and Asgore,” Aofil demands loud and clear. Should give them a bit of an insight into how much Chara meant to the freaking king and queen of the Underground! Aofil’s gonna have such a great hand to play when the trial arrives.

The flower’s eyes beads left and right. “Y-you mean while you were living with Asriel and his parents?”

“Sure!” Aofil shrugs. “Show me Asriel too. Show me the entire family!”

The flower is hesitant. Its face has frozen in a baffled expression. Aofil throws their arms out sideways. “Well?” they ask, making sure to sound very impatient.

“I-If it’s w-what you want, then alright. I’ll show you. I h-haven’t really tried to do more than one before, and I-”

The flower catches a glimpse of Aofil furrowing their brow.

“B-but for you I’ll do anything, Chara!”

Aofil moves their arms towards their chest, crossing them. They stare in surprised wonder as twisted vines start growing up from the soil. The vines aren’t like the yellow wilted ones on the houses though, they’re thick and green. Just as thorny though, but looking way healthier than the others. They move as if possessed. Is this what magic can do? Aofil has to admit that it’s more than they fathomed a monster could do.

Not enough to scare them, but enough to lift a pair of surprised eyebrows.

The flower’s face is coiled in deep focus. Its tongue is hanging out as thick drops of sweat run over its face, hanging off its petals for just a moment, and then being shaken away as the flower bounces from its efforts. With each new vine that pops up, its eyes narrow more and more. It’s taking a lot out of the flower to create whatever it is doing. If Aofil were to attack now it wouldn’t stand a chance.

It’s not long before a wall has been erected before Aofil. A wall of green stems trickled with sharp thorns. They sway back and forth in rhythm with the flower trying to catch its breath.

“I,” the flower takes a deep breath. “I just need a second to catch my breath. It’s hard enough doing for one.”

“Take your time,” Aofil says. This is becoming really interesting, and they can’t help but be curious how it’ll look like.

The flower gasps lightly. “T-thanks,” it says, relieved, and a bit...proud. Or is it just more relief? Aofil can’t tell exactly, but it did sound like Aofil said the first piece of encouragement for a long time for that flower monster.

A couple of seconds later, as the yellow flower takes one final big inhale of air, the vines start bending. Moving through each other, like knots, and shaping four distinct figures out of the vines.

The first shape to form is a small one. Childlike in size, but not a human child. The figure has, what appears to be, a muzzle, and large ears that go from the top of the forming head, all the way down to the appearing chin. Two arms, and two legs.

Next to it forms another small figure. This one more human in its facial feature. To Aofil, it’s like seeing a hedge clipping with them as a child for the model.

Behind the two children there are made two large figures. Well, one large, and one enormous. The large one is formed first, with a similar muzzle and pair of ears as the first child. A pair of horns, soft almost, are protruding from its head. The enormous one is almost as wide as the rest of the figures combined. It towers over the large one by at least a head. Its horns are much longer than the large one.

A winded gasp shifts Aofil’s focus back down to the flower.

“D-done!” it says, and immediately after gasping greedily for air.

“Neat.”

“W-why did you want me to do this, Chara?”

Aofil doesn’t hear the question. They just thought of something.

“How did they all sound?”

The flower peeks out from behind the green figures. “W-what?”

“Can you imitate the voices too? I mean, it should be magic for you too, right? I want to hear how they all sound, please.”

The flower is a bit hesitant. It narrows its eyes towards Aofil, as if waiting for Aofil to smile and call it all a joke. Aofil’s dead serious though. If this monster can imitate sounds too, they might have an unbelievable advantage. If it can imitate the king and queen of the monsters… Aofil’s mind starts spinning with possibilities.

“Go on!” they encourage, eager to hear.

“O-okay then, I guess.”

Wait…how will Aofil know if it’s the real voices of the king and queen. It might be bluffing, and-

“Howdy, I’m Chara.”

That’s-

“Was it too much?” the flower asks with its head sunk into its shoulders.

Aofil can’t believe their ears. They have to hear it again. “Say that again.”

“You sure?”

Aofil nods. “Yes.”

The flower clears its throat, and the human child collection of vines takes a step forward.

“Howdy, I’m Chara,” it says.

With the same voice Aofil had when they were a child.

Did...did Chara sound the same too? Not only a perfect copy of Aofil visually, but auditory as well. Did Chara act the same as Aofil too? Would it all have been the same if they switched places?

“Are you okay, Chara?” the flower asks with its own voice. “You look a bit pale. Not pale as in…” It averts its eyes while gritting its teeth. “Sorry! Sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

Aofil notices on their hand that their color has indeed faded quite a bit. They feel it too. To hear their own voice coming from that figure, how it’s made out of twisted vines, yet still recognizable, it’s a lot for Aofil to take in. That’s not even factoring in that it’s representing their long gone twin. Aofil’s surprised that they’re not white as a ghost, if not paler.

The last drops of color still left inside their skin can be chalked up to Aofil now being sure that whatever voice the flower uses for the king and queen will be the right ones. If they can nail Chara’s perfectly, then it should nail the king and queen perfectly. Aofil just have to play along.

“Did I bring up some bad memories by doing that, Chara?” the flower asks while slowly building up the courage to look back over to Aofil., “S-sorry if I did. I shouldn’t have done it. I should’ve known that this would happen. I felt just the same when I came back. I could’ve prevented the same fear I felt. You haven’t had time to get used to it, but I have.” The figures start unraveling. “I’ll get these away from you now.”

“No.”

The vines stop unraveling, leaving the four figures in an almost melted state that’s a bit disturbing for Aofil to look at.

“Bring them back,” they say, indicating their request with a nonchalant wave of their hand.

“B-but you-”

“Just do it! I want to hear the rest too.”

The figures regain their shapes as the vines retract to form them again. This time the child next to Chara steps forward.

“Howdy, I’m Asr-”

The flower looks down, and the child marionette it’s controlling slumps over, along with the rest of the other chassis of coppice. The flower sighs heavily before puppeteering the vines again. The thicket filled bodies slither back to an upwards position. The vines strain as they’re tensed, and the sound makes Aofil a bit uncomfortable.

“I’m Asriel,” the child figure next to Chara says. “Your best friend.”

Aofil nods, and the figure takes a step back.

The larger one behind it puts its arms crossed vertically over its body. “Greetings, I am Toriel,” it says warmly. “It’s been long, my child.”

Child?

Aofil looks over to the flower with their brow narrowed in surprise. “What?” they mouth to it.

“S-sorry,” the flower says, not realizing that it’s also moving the mouth of its puppets. They all mouthed just like he did, like possessed entities.

Granted, they are quite literally possessed. Didn’t stop it from being creepy though. Both the vines, and the way they moved all the mouths simultaneously.

Finally, the enormous one speaks. “Greetings, human. I am Asgore, king of the Underground.”

The low and booming voice coming from it almost shakes loose Aofil’s sinuses. They dry off what leaked out with the sleeve of their shirt. Some dust gets stuck in their nose from their sleeve arm, and they turn around quickly to shoot it out as quickly as possible.

A loud and unnaturally fast mixture of creaking wood and cracking plants forces Aofil to turn their head back around to see what the hell it was that could produce such sound. What they find is nothing. The figures are gone, it’s only the flower left. It’s heaving heavily, breathing deeply in, and exhaling just as deeply.

“D-did I do good, Chara?” it asks after swallowing hard. “Was it good?”

“Sure!” Aofil runs their finger underneath their nose to get the last snot away. “It was good.”

“I’m glad that you liked it, Chara. Although it was a bit creepy hearing you wanting to hear your own voice. Is it because yours now sound so-”

“Watch it!” Aofil growls, shutting the mouth of the flower with a scared squeak.

“S-sorry. Still t-trying to w-wrap my head around t-talking to someone I actually w-want to talk with.”

“Just keep that in mind, alright?” Aofil asks with a small smile. “I’m your best friend, after all. Aren’t I?”

“Y-yes! You are!”

Aofil is gonna be able work this monster like a yoyo. Aw man! This is gonna be amazing! As soon as the pastor comes back, Aofil is gonna start recording evidence against the monsters. They have the voice of the king and queen at their disposal. Ain’t no chance in hell, or the Underground, that the monsters are gonna even get the slightest chance in the upcoming trial.

“H-how are you alive, Chara?”

Aofil’s ears perk to the point of them almost flying off their head. “What?”

“H-how are you alive?”

“I got better,” Aofil answers with a smile.

The flower laughs, but Aofil can tell that it is a plastered one. “Yeah, good one. I guess you don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Not really, no.”

“Alright,” the flower nods. “T-that’s fine, I don’t really like to talk about when I c-came back. The important part is that you’re here, and that I’m here, and that we can be best friends again! You and me, Chara.”

Aofil nods in rhythm with the flower. “You and me.”

The flower looks around. “So, um, is this where you live now, Chara?”

Aofil follows the flower’s glance with their own. “No, no. I lived here before. Thought I would visit, and then I ran into you.”

“Yeah,” the flower smiles warmly, “that you did.”

“Do you want to follow me back home?” Aofil proposes while pointing over yonder towards their town. “I have some things I want to discuss with you.”

“Yes! There’s nothing more I want to do!” the flower exclaims, happy as can be.

“You think I can carry you home in a pot or something? To keep your existence a bit lowkey. I got some plans ahead, and I need you to be my ace up my sleeve.”

“S-sure!” the flower agrees, although Aofil can hear it not being as ecstatic as it makes itself out to be.

“Great, then let’s go, um...”

“Flowey,” the flower fills in. “I’m Flowey now. U-unless you want to call me Asriel. Like I s-said, both are fine with me.”

“Flowey, ey?” Aofil says while looking to the side to let the name sink in.

Flowey.

What a stupid name.


	38. HOME on the Surface

"You hungry perhaps?"

Aofil places Flowey down on the table next to the door. They close the door behind them, and making doubly sure that it is locked.

"Hm?" the monster replies after a quick turn of its flowery head. "No, not really. I'm fine, thank you."

“You need some other kind of food? Is that it?” Aofil pries. “Monster food, perhaps?”

“No,” Flowey says while shaking his head. “I can eat human food. I’ve done it before.”

Aofil snaps up a thumb. “Right.”

"Where, um?" Aofil narrows their eyes in a thought that they never would've imagined they would have to ask. "Where do you want to sit? Near a window?"

Flowey looks around the hallway. His mouth hangs a bit open while a low hum flows freely out of it. "Uuuhhh?" He seems just as baffled by receiving the question as Aofil is asking it. "I don't know? Wherever is close to you? Is that fine with you? I don’t want to be clingy."

To try and alleviate the slight and awkward tension that’s suddenly present in the air, Flowey waves his vine arms up and down while smiling. “I don’t have those kind of vines!” he says as a joke.

Neither of them laugh at it.

“You know, not clingy vines? They’re not creepy as...well...” Flowey tries again, but this time the waves are like shallow shrugs.

Aofil gets it, but they ain’t laughing. Flowey coughs loudly after a couple of awkward seconds.

As he coughs, he looks down on the pot below him. He taps it curiously with one of his leafs. "I'm not really sure how to answer this, actually. I am used to being able to move around freely, you know? Now that I’m in this pot it feels a bit strange. It’s like a prison. Not really, because I understand why we have to do it, but still. Nothing that I can fault you for though, Chara, so don’t worry about that. It’s just me. Even the monsters in the Underground were taken back as they saw a moving flower. Can’t imagine what it would do to a human.”

Aofil picks up the pot from the table after they’ve removed their shoes, and hung up their jacket. “Alright, how about the kitchen table? Or maybe the living room? If you need sun that’s where you’ll be the best off.”

Flowey let’s a silent “Yeah...” trickle out of him.

Aofil realizes their blunder. “Oh! Right, the Underground. Not much sun there.”

“You would know.”

“I do,” Aofil lies with an innocent smile. “I do. Just slipped my mind, that’s all.”

“It happens.”

Flowey puts up one of his vines over his eyes as the two of them reach the kitchen. The late afternoon sun is blazing hard through the windows, reflecting off the tile floor and metal sink.

“If other humans come around you’ll have to be quiet,” Aofil instruct as they put Flowey down on the kitchen table. “You can act like a normal flower, right?”

Flowey doesn’t answer.

“Right?” Aofil asks again. They turn Flowey’s pot around, but his face is gone. It’s just a normal flower. They grab a hold of the edge of one of the petals, and shake the run of the mill yellow flower. “Flowey?”

No answer.

Did…did Aofil just imagine it all? Maybe...maybe it really was gas, and not magic? Has Aofil been hallucinating the monster? What kind of name is Flowey, really?

Wow, and all of that about Chara? About them being in a relationship with the king and queen of the monsters? Ha! That’s just-

“Good, wasn’t it?” Flowey’s face returns with a smile. “One time I spent like a week or so just whispering stuff when Asgore was alone in the throne room while disguised as one of his precious flowers. He went insane after just two days!”

Flowey grabs his head while morphing his face to that of the largest figure he created at Aofil’s summer home. The face is beyond fear, screaming silently as tears rolls down its face.

“No reason for me to stop though,” Flowey continues after shifting his face back to his own. “It just became funnier seeing him break down from the inside. He started to plead with the voices of the kids he’d killed. Started pleading with the voice of his oh so tragic Toriel condemning him. While his two children were screaming at him for not being able to save them he fell down on his big stupid knees, and cried until his armor was completely rusted. His pathetic sobs were heard all the way to the Waterfall! Perhaps even further! I’d love to have seen Toriel’s face had she heard him sniveling like her son, but with bigger lungs!”

With a horizontal motion with his leaf over his throat, Flowey puts out his tongue out the side of his mouth and lets it hang for a moment. “Asgore killed himself that night by trying to scoop out the voices with his trident.” Flowey scoffs. “And I’m only slightly exaggerating about that.”

Flowey looks up from his ramblings only to meet Aofil looking down on him with a baffled expression stretching over every nook and cranny of their face. Flowey quickly sinks down, cowering, as his entire body starts shaking. “S-sorry, Chara! Y-you were talking about how we’ll b-bring down the monsters on t-the way here, so I t-thought that...”

Aofil shakes themselves awake while stumbling clumsily on their words. “No...no, it’s not that. If anything we can use that against them during the trial. It’s just that,” Aofil runs their hand in a circular motion over their face, “your face.”

“Ah.” Flowey shoots back upright while nodding. “Yes, yes. Sorry if I scared you, then. I-it was good though?”

Aofil’s mouth instinctively shifts into an impressed frown. “Yeah, it was. I mean, I started to question whether or not you were real.”

Flowey nods, “Yeah,” but it’s reserved. “I’ve kinda gone through that myself a couple of times,” he says under his breath. “But we’re together now!” he half shouts. “We’re best friends again!”

“And now we’re in my house instead of yours,” Aofil points out with a guess.

“Can I...” Flowey clears his throat. “Can I look around?”

Aofil’s brow furrows hard. Not even because of the why, but because of the “How?”

Flowey lifts out a foot shaped from thin vines out of the dirt. “Like this.” He wiggles his toes to show them off.

Aofil would rather that he didn’t.

They’d rather not him run off on his own too. He might get wise to Aofil not being Chara. For all the slip ups Aofil has done though, it seems that it would take nothing short of a crowbar, or even some earth moving equipment, to convince Flowey otherwise. So that’s nice to know. It’s not like Flowey will run off or anything. He seems pretty content with this emotional lease he’s strung around himself, and handed the reins over to Aofil.

Aofil should still think of some contingency plan, just in case. If they’re to have the pastor over, or anyone else for that matter, they’re bound to be called Aofil instead of Chara. Aofil might not be able to do enough to derail Flowey’s train of thought, but someone else might. Maybe it’s better if Aofil put at least some cards on the table with Flowey. A few cards that might give Aofil some leeway should they be called by their own name. Not enough for Flowey to not call Aofil Aofil while it’s just the two of them, but perhaps when there’s other people around.

They won’t be lying. They’ll just be postponing the truth until Flowey can handle it. They’ll tell Flowey the entire truth eventually.

Oh yes, they will.

“C-Chara?”

Aofil looks over to the weak monster.

“W-why did you do your creepy face just now?” Flowey asks with deep uncertainty tugging his lips back forth between a smile and a scared frown.

“My what?” Aofil returns with an innocent shrug of their shoulders. “No, I was just struck with an idea, that’s all.”

Flowey doesn’t look convinced, but not unconvinced enough to make a scene out of it. “Oh, alright. Something about what you’re planning?”

“Yup,” Aofil answers quickly. “You wanted to look around a bit, no? Well, feel free. Just don’t break anything.”

“Oh...” Flowey’s posture becomes more relaxed, and his lips cement into a beaming expression. “Y-yeah, I wanted to see how you lived before you came down into the Underground.”

“My room is upstairs,” Aofil informs with a pair of pointing fingers. Technically they’re not lying. “I’ll be in the kitchen to make some food. You sure you don’t want anything?”

“If it’s a hassle for you, then don’t bother. I don’t really eat much. Not food, that is. Not sun either, but that you already know by now.”

Aofil nods. “Fine by me. My house is your house. Just like before, no?”

“Y-yeah, just like before, Chara.” Flowey takes one foot out of the dirt. “In a way we’ve now completed what we set out to do.” And the other foot follows shortly after. “We’re both on the Surface, together, and the monsters are free.”

Aofil stares bewildered at the flower standing on its own two feet. Like a green stick figure with small thorns spread across, and an over sized head. It’s strange, to say the least. Doesn’t help that the stride the flower is taking reminds Aofil of an old cartoon.

“We’re not kids no more though, Chara. Maybe us wanting to free the monsters was nothing more than childish naivety. It’s how they were freed a couple of weeks ago, after all. People change, and the monsters have changed quite a lot since they last were on the Surface. Is it perhaps mercy killing you’re planning, Chara?”

Aofil twists their lips, as they don’t really have a good answer for this question. Hearing it out loud like this. It feels weird, it sounds...wrong to Aofil.

“You might’ve changed the most though, Chara. I remember you saying that you hated humanity. When I was alone in the Underground I thought you’d be happy as can be when Asgore swore to kill any and all human that fell down after we...died.” Flowey halts his foot on the first step up to the second floor. “But I guess six were too many, Chara?”

Aofil’s eyes flare up. “Six?” they almost scream in surprise. Six humans? Dead in the Underground? Was that what the pastor was talking about? Six kids killed?

No, the monsters must pay. Aofil will make sure they feel the consequences of what they’ve done. No hesitation! No more! This will justify what Aofil’s planning. The monsters have to know that murder will not go unpunished.

Flowey again averts his eyes, this time in fear. “Y-you still look scary when you’re angry, Chara. I’m s-sure that it’ll help you though. It will show the monsters that you’re determined! That snotty brat will stand no match to you!”

“Who?” Aofil asks.

“F-Frisk!” Flowey turns his head back around. “They were the one that forced me to break the Barrier! They tricked me! They played with my emotions! They made me say things about you I never would’ve said had I not had those stupid souls inside me. It was their soul! It felt like yours! If I had known that you wanted the monsters still locked up I would’ve never even thought of breaking the Barrier. I swear! You know me!”

“Well, it broke.”

“Y-yes,” Flowey whimpers, as if preparing himself to be punished.

“And this Frisk tricked you into doing it?”

“Yes!”

“Is this Frisk, a human?”

Flowey nods. “But they’re much weaker than you! You’re an adult now! You’re much stronger than some kid could ever be! They think they can replace you. They’re all smiles and sunshine, nuzzling up to the king and queen! But I know!” Flowey balls one of his leafs up. “I know that they’re not the perfect little goody two shoes they make themselves out to be. They’ve killed before! They’ve killed everyone before! I just know it, Chara. I could feel it from their soul. Their hunger for dust!”

“And Frisk is now with the king and queen? Are they gonna do something? Start killing again?”

Whatever start killing again means. If the king and queen of the monsters have a psychotic child among them it could be leveraged. To what end would they benefit of having a murderous human child at their side though? Weird. Certainly weird. Perhaps the pastor knows more? He knew about the children that the monsters apparently have murdered, so perhaps he knows a bit more about this Frisk kid.

“No, I don’t think so. They went through the Underground befriending everyone. Even our parents!” Flowey wraps a vine around one of the support to the handlebar next to the stairs. His grip tightens, making the wood creak. “Who is this kid trying to replace us? Replace you! Who could ever? You were the hope of the Underground, Chara! Who could ever hold a candle to the hope you brought to the monsters? What you brought to me! If they’ve all forgotten, then we’ll show them just how much it’ll hurt to be on your bad side. If they just throw you away at the first sight of another human doing something barely, and remotely close to what you did for them, then we’ll show them what happens if they replace their hope for a lesser one! They’ll smile as they remember what you were, while cowering at what you’ve become because of them. Together!”

Flowey catches his breath. “They’ll pay.” With deep and sharp breaths he huffs angrily. “It was because of them that you died. You just wanted to help, but they couldn’t do anything but watch as we died. Pathetic, all of them. Our parents, the ones that we trusted, did nothing as we turned into dust. We cried, and they did nothing! They couldn’t do anything when I woke up. I was alone, I was scared, but no one came. No one could save me. No one,” Flowey looks up to Aofil. Tears flooding his eyes, and a hopeful smile subduing his frustrated grin, “but you, Chara. You’re the only one I care about, because you’re the only one that could help me. The only one I could imagine saving me. So long I’ve been alone with this void inside of me, with the only thing holding me up being you.”

“Frisk,” Flowey curses. “Frisk didn’t even want to touch me. I poured my soul out for them. I gave up everything, but they turned away. They left me to turn back into this!” He looks at his vines wrapped around the wooden pole. “To this useless form!”

“But with you,” Flowey whispers as his voice starts to give in. “With you, Chara, I feel so strong. Just like when we were kids. Your determination, I could feel it back then, and I can feel it now as well. It’s so comforting, you have no idea. Like the only light I’ve seen in an eternity. Six human souls, and the entire Underground was nothing compared to what I’m feeling when I’m standing here next to you, Chara.”

Flowey releases his grip on the wooden pole. His thorns dug into the wood, leaving behind small holes of exposed flesh. Flowey retracts the vine back into him, and glances over to Aofil. “Sorry, I’m not used to actually feeling emotional. Was it too much, Chara?”

Aofil can’t believe the gold mine they’ve just struck with this monster. Here it is, bleeding its heart out for them. Thinking that Aofil is someone that meant so much for it. Meant everything for this Flowey.

Everything Chara planted, Aofil can reap. And collect however they want.

They’re gonna have a harvest unlike anything seen before. Everything that’s worth for this monster right now is Aofil, and Aofil will be sure to use that as much as they can.

“Go upstairs and look around, Flowey,” Aofil says with a careful tone filled with warmth and comfort. “Take your time.”

The comfort pours over Flowey like an overflowing bucket, and he can barely hold himself together. “W-where is your room, Chara? I want to see how you lived before you did with me.”

“Straight ahead once you get up there. Door on the...” Aofil pauses to make sure they say the one that wasn’t theirs, “right side.”

“T-thanks.”

“Anytime, Flowey.” Aofil gives the monster a tugged smile. “Anytime.”

The flower walks up the stairs very silly. The steps are up to its head, so its legs must extend to the point of it looking like even worse of a stick figure.

Aofil can’t help but giggle to themselves as the reality of something this, for lack of a better word, monstrous of an opportunity will probably never settle in for them.

This flower is gonna be not only an ace up their sleeve, but the entire deck of cards, and then some. And it just keeps on giving! There is literally nothing Aofil can do barring telling it directly that they’re not Chara to break it’s devotion to them. The contempt stirring inside that flower is nothing short of absolute, and Aofil can aim it wherever they please.

All they need now is to get information out of it. They could just ask it directly to tell everything to them, or-

The doorbell rings, summoning a worried Flowey to the staircase. It looks down as Aofil goes out to answer the door. “H-humans?” it asks.

Aofil nods. “Probably. Stay upstairs for the time being, will you? I don’t think they’ll hear the sound of your footsteps. Just don’t knock anything over, and it should be fine.”

“I-if you say so.”

“Wait!” Aofil halts Flowey just before it can scurry away again. “If you hear the humans calling me Aofil, that’s what my twin was named. So just roll with it. It’s their body, after all.”

Flowey’s eyes shoot wide open. “What?”

“Aofil survived, and I managed to just slip in when I came back as a soul.”

“Y-you can do that?”

“My determination eclipsed theirs,” Aofil hazards as a guess.

“Ah!” Flowey nods as he starts to understand. “Since you’re twins and all, you have the same soul. Like you said when we were kids! You’re the better twin though.”

“Best part is that it’s not even difficult looking myself in the mirror!” Aofil decides to sacrifice a pawn in order to check mate the king. They tug at their cheeks with their hand. “Besides these lines, and whatnot.”

“B-but, weren’t you and Aofil not the same...” Flowey looks away to the side. “You know?”

They weren’t?

Aofil clears their throat. “Yeah, but that’s not a problem. They don’t suspect a thing.”

The doorbell rings twice, with harder presses.

“It’s just what happened.” Aofil shrugs as nonchalantly as they can. “So we’ll roll with it. Alright?”

“S-sure. I can do that,” Flowey agrees with a hesitant nod that turns confident after one or two shakes. He blinks with one eye. “Aofil.”

Aofil snaps an extended thumb towards the flower along with a proud wink. “Perfect.”

Flowey scurries back upstairs, and Aofil shakes their head in disbelief.

Like a damn yoyo.

Aofil opens the door to greet the visitor. “Oh!” They smile widely, and motion with their arm for the human to enter. “Why don’t you come in?”

The pastor bows his head, and accepts the invitation. “You’ve been calling me a lot.”

“You haven’t been answering a lot,” Aofil replies as they close the door behind the pastor.

“I’ve been busy.”

Aofil takes the pastor’s coat and hangs it up. “About the monsters?”

“Yes, about the-” The pastor freezes as he meets Aofil’s eyes. “A-Aofil?”

They glance up quickly towards the staircase to make sure that the flower isn’t there. They might’ve convinced it, but they still feel like they should lessen the amount of times it hears Aofil being called their real name, just in case.

“Yes?” Aofil replies with an inquisitive eyebrow.

“H-how are you feeling, Aofil?”

Aofil shrugs quickly. “Just dandy. Why do you ask?”

“S-so, it’s not about humans?” the pastor asks while standing as if he’s ready to bolt out the door without even grabbing his jacket.

“Pardon?”

The pastor moves a step away from the door as he hardens his eyes on Aofil’s. “So,” he starts before a wide grin forms on his lips, “it’s about the monsters? Have you realized what they did? What they’ve done to your family?”

“You mean about Chara?” Aofil asks while nodding towards the kitchen. “Tea?”

“Yes.” The pastor nods eccentrically. “Yes! Oh, and the tea as well.”

Aofil takes lead. They fill up some water in the kettle. “So what have you done about the monsters?” they inquire while waiting for the kettle to fill up.

“I’m planning an investigation about the missing children.”

Aofil shuts off the water, “Oh!” and shakes the kettle just enough for the lid to fall down with a clonk. “I think I can help a bit with that. I think I can help with much more than that even.”

“Y-you can?” the pastor stumbles out. He has to wait for Aofil to reach into the top cupboard to get a hold of some teabags though.

“Yeah," they answer as they stretch their arm to the back of the cupboard. “It might even be better if it tells you everything though.”

“It?” falls out of the pastor’s confused mouth.

“Flowey!” Aofil shouts up the staircase. “Would you kindly come down and tell everything you know to this friend of mine?”

It’s quiet. Just long enough for the pastor to start speaking up, but he’s silenced, as finally an answer comes from above.

“Y-you sure?”

Aofil turns their head back towards the pastor. They wiggle their eyebrows to him, and then shots up the stairs again, “Yeah, I am. Come down, I’m making some tea.”

“Golden Flower?”

“Human tea.”

“Ah.”

Aofil takes a seat opposite the pastor. They move the dirt filled pot in between them. The pastor again wants to speak up, but he’s again silenced by his own stunned shock as Flowey jumps up on the table, and crawls into his pot. He’s sunken down a bit, and looks over to Aofil. “T-this might not be a good idea.”

Aofil waves their hand and scoffs lightly through their lips. “Nonsense! We all three want the same thing.”

Flowey opens his mouth, but he’s interrupted by a clean C tone whistle. Aofil shoots out their chairs, and stands up.

“Tea’s ready.”


	39. Calm before the making of the storm

"You hungry perhaps?"

"Hm...No, not really. I'm fine, thank you."

The pastor insists with a slight nod of his head. “It’s gonna be a while until food will be served once the trial gets started, so you should really eat, Aofil.”

Fine then. “Sure, a sandwich or something,” Aofil answers while throwing their hand up.

The pastor hesitates as he’s about to close the door behind him. “Coffee?”

“I can take some.”

The pastor nods and closes the door, leaving Aofil alone in the somewhat large office given to them for any last planning. Their lawyer sits at the other end, going through the case one last time, and making some final notes in his notebook. He’s been at it nonstop ever since. Obsessed, is the only word Aofil can use to describe his sheer devotion to this trial. All the way up until this point in time he’s been pulling threads more than a neurotic seamstress.

First thing he did was get that kid away from the monsters. Man oh man! That was some excellent drama! Absolutely top notch! The monsters had no ground to stand on, yet they implored to have the kid stay with them. The Underground must’ve had some gas leaking into it for them to even begin to think that they had a good reason to keep the kid.

“They saved us!” that one blue monster screamed, along with a passionate speech about how strong the kid was, and how much they had helped the monsters.

What a complete dingus.

Just gave the social services more of a reason to remove the child once they realized that the monsters had tried to kill them. The monsters are so disassociated that they tried to use the fact that the child defended itself as a reason for the kid to be kept in their care.

Absolute idiots.

They didn’t really get a lot out of the kid. No confession, no useful recollection. Didn’t even seem relieved not to be in the hands of people who’s first instinct wasn’t to kill them.

“It’s my family!” the kid had implored, almost to the point of going completely red in the face. “I want to go back! I have to save them!”

Guess Frisk is an orphan. How else would they bond so damn quickly? Bond so quickly with a race that wanted nothing but death for the child. May still want, who knows? Could be that the monsters are just using the child to score emotional points, and perhaps get some sympathy.

They won’t hold a candle to what Aofil has prepared though. They’re the only living relative of the first murdered human, after all. Their testimony is gonna be its weight worth in gold. On top of that they have all the insider information they could ever want through Flowey.

They know what happened with their summer home community. How they were attacked by the child of the royal couple of the monsters.

Fused souls? Like hell that the jury is gonna accept that as an explanation. If they do however, Flowey revealed that because such an event was possible, it sparked the conflict that lead to the monsters being sealed away. So if they want to play that card, then Aofil has prepared the counter argument.

The reason the monsters were locked away, the reason the humans decided on such a measure, is what killed Chara and the other children. It won’t be a defense for the monsters, it will be another weak point that they’ll willingly open themselves up to.

Aofil can see it playing out in their head. The fearful gasps, the stunned disbelief creeping over the monsters faces as they slowly realize how stupid they are. It warms Aofil down to their very core.

Or soul, as the monsters would call it.

Magic? Yeah right!

Aofil can’t wait for the monsters to try and explain that too. Explain the use of it, the how, and the why, they use it. Just gonna keep digging that hole with reasons why the monsters should be kept away.

Humans don’t know any magic. If so, then the world would be full of it by this point. Especially since humans can wield it even greater than monsters, and monster magic being powerful enough to kill human children, should the need be for everyone to be reminded. Aofil has no doubt that it will be needed. Not only to further their own cause, but to push down even further on the monsters.

They might be regretful, if Flowey is to be believed, but remorse shown won’t excuse them for murder. Serial murdering. Seven, bordering on eight. With the eight wanting to stay with the monsters.

Apparently that Frisk kid is nowhere to be found at the moment. They’ve been missing for a while now from the government’s humble care.

Lead everyone into the Underground, where the dead human children lay.

Aofil wasn’t present, but they sure wished they had been. Maybe not for the opening of the caskets with the rotten corpses, but to have seen Frisk’s, and the monsters faces, as the investigation started. Seven aces just given to the humans to use. The monsters really are an unbelievable bunch of fuckups.

And that Frisk kid going back to them all? They must be real thick in the head if they want to go back and risk getting killed again. One would think that almost being murdered would eclipse the fluffy appearance of the king and queen.

Guess not!

How did Frisk even escape to being with? The pastor described it as the kid being there one minute, and the next was nothing but an empty room. Doubly confusing was that the room had no windows, at least, no window that the kid could crawl out of. He did remember that the room smelled differently. What was it he said again?

“Fast food with every single kind of condiment imaginable, and then some!”

Something like that, yeah. Very peculiar.

There’s no hotdog stand, or similar, in the near vicinity of the building the kid escaped from, so where could that smell have come from?

Either way, it didn’t take an overflowing amount of manhours to guess where the child was. Are the monsters also extremely dumber than the humans, akin to how they say that the humans are more powerful than monster?

It’s either that, or that the poor kid hit their head when they fell down into the Underground. Only way to explain how they would ever try and make friends with an entire race wanting them dead. Come to think about it, did Chara also hit their head when they fell down?

Aofil carefully taps the back of the pot next to them. The face returns on the flower, and Aofil leans in close. “Did I hit my head when I fell down?” Aofil whispers into the flower.

“I think so,” the flower answers with a similar whisper using Aofil’s voice, as planned. Aofil can explain talking to the flower because it reminds them of their dead twin. Killed at the hands of the monsters, and this flower is the only thing that reminds Aofil of Chara. They want to have it with them everywhere they go. No one can really fault them for that. Might be a bit weird, but it’s harmless enough.

For the humans, that is.

Much easier than explaining to everyone that they meet that Aofil’s in possession of a magical monster flower that’s devoted to Chara, Aofil’s dead twin who’s name Aofil’s taking advantage off to spearhead this trial against the monsters.

“Why do you wonder?” wonders Flowey while, quickly, yet carefully, glancing over to make sure that the lawyer is still occupied. “You plan on using it?”

“Maybe,” Aofil answers under their breath. “Depends on how things play out. You still remember your part?”

The flower nods, but stops as it realizes as it shouldn’t really be doing it if it is to pretend to be a normal one. “I-I remember, Chara. Don’t worry, we’ll do this together!”

Aofil taps one of the petals gently, “Good!” and pushes the pot away. They watch to make sure that the flower’s face fades away.

“This might sound a bit heartless, but save your tears for the trial, Aofil.” the lawyer says before looking up from his papers. “I’m not one to tell you how to grieve, but please stay strong. At least until we can siphon some of that emotion onto the jury.”

“I will,” Aofil replies with a solemn nod.

The lawyer shoots Aofil a comforting smile before going back to his work.

Completely obsessed.

He hasn’t told Aofil exactly why, but Aofil can read between the lines. They got a feeling as to what’s going on. The same website Aofil used to check their own parents children also have the lawyer’s records, and his kid.

His missing kid, that is.

Aofil couldn’t exactly get the birth certificate or something similar, but they could read the public information about the lawyer, and his kid that’s missing. Presumed dead.

Sounds very familiar.

Which one was his kid? Which number? Chara was the first, that much Aofil can gather. Which one the lawyer’s kid was is a bit more trickier though. They can’t really ask the lawyer outright, and again, they couldn’t access more details on the government’s website.

Revenge is a good motivator, and the lawyer seems to be all for that. The exact number isn’t really necessary, the important motivator is that it happened in the first place. Or second, or third, etc. Chara was in the first, again.

A parent’s only chance to enact justice for the death of his child. A death by the monsters hands. The smack he’s about to lay down on said monsters fingers is gonna echo throughout the entire country. Maybe even the world. Aofil’s gonna enjoy every second of it.

The door opens, and the pastor enters with a tray containing some sandwiches and cups of coffee. He places one of each next to the lawyer, who thanks the pastor, even though his mind being deeper inside the papers than what the monster were, and hopefully will be again, in the Underground.

The pastor doesn’t seem at all phased by the absent thanks, and he seats himself opposite of Aofil, handing over a steaming cup of coffee with one hand, and a decent sandwich with his other. Aofil takes the two items, and places them in front of them.

“You on your way to tend to your choir?” Aofil asks after a couple of bites of their food. “Preaching is a virtue in your job, after all.”

“Virtue is seldom found inside these halls of justice,” the pastor replies after a sip of his coffee. “If justice was true, and if the monsters had some to spare, they’d blow this whole ordeal over. Confess to everything, and plead for mercy. As it stands, they seem to be quite vocal about this trial.”

The pastor nods towards the flower.

“It’s quite amazing how much they’ve refused to compromise,” he ends with a smile forming on his lips.

“Yup!” Aofil lets their lips smack together. “Sure is. To finally get some answers after those agonizing years spent not knowing the fate of my dear twin, whom I held so dear the few moments we spent together. The horror they must’ve spent in that prison. Being cuddled to be made an example. They were nothing but propaganda to these monsters. Taken into the quote, care, unquote, of the king and queen, just as a toy for their prince.”

The lawyer looks up as the sound of ceramic being scraped on wood cuts his ear. Aofil waves with an innocent smile, and points to their coffee cup. The lawyer seems a bit surprised to find one on his own desk, along with a sandwich. He clears some papers away as to reduce the damage should he spill the hot liquid. After a long sip, he continues working while softly mumbling to himself.

Aofil snaps their head towards Flowey, who scrunched himself up so hard that he moved his pot. “What are you doing?” they harshly whisper.

“S-s-sorry,” he whispers back. “I-It j-just...”

“We went through this!” Aofil lifts up the flower’s face up towards theirs using two of their fingers. “Don’t get cold feet now that we’re so close!”

“I-I won’t! I s-swear, Chara.”

“Good.” With a careful yet determined push, Aofil shoves the flower’s face away from them. “We’re so close now, and I’m going through with this with, or without you. It’s your choice here, Flowey. Make it.”

“I-I know...Sorry. I’m with y-you, Chara. I’ll always be.”

The flower’s face fades away.

The monster’s been getting more and more anxious. It’s been speaking up towards Aofil more frequently. They just need it for a little while longer, it’s already done the majority of its part. It’s ability to mimic the king and queen’s voices have been to some great usefulness these last weeks. Indecisive bunch, first they reject, then they accept. First the king says no, and then the queen says yes. Then the king wonders why the queen said yes, and the queen replies by stating that it was the king that said yes.

They’re already in turmoil, and the trial hasn’t even started yet. Aofil can’t help but to be genuinely impressed by the accuracy this monster flower next to them is capable of. They can’t let the flower know of it though. Aofil almost let it slip once, and it began staring hopefully into the horizon. Aofil needs it here though, in the present, in the moment. If it starts daydreaming it might get second thoughts, and ruin this entire plan of Aofil’s. They’ve been yearning for this day since the date had been set in stone.

Aofil can’t really speak for how the monsters...Wait, yes they can, they’ve been doing it through Flowey! Anyways, the monsters can think whatever they want about this trial for all Aofil care. Best case would be that they’re shaking in their boots, or paws, or whatever, at the moment. They will be rattling like aspen leafs in a storm once they exit this court, that’s for sure though.

“You heading out soon?” Aofil asks the pastor with a quick nod towards the door. “I’ve no fear that the trial is gonna go anything but rapid downhill for the monsters, but what is a wound without a mountain of salt poured into it, father?”

“Monsters don’t bleed, Aofil,” the pastor reminds with a friendly wag of his finger.

“Oh they will once this gets started. And they should still get wounds, right? Unless they seem fine until just collapsing into a pile of dust.”

“I suppose so. Don’t think the crowd outside will need much convincing once I get out there, by the way. You could probably pop the bubble that’s growing outside just by blinking hard towards it.”

“And here you are, father, bringing with you a spear to burst the bubble as best as you can.”

An amused chortle escapes the pastor. “A spear of justice?” He shakes his head while scoffing through his teeth. “I guess you can call it that.”

With a faded sigh, the pastor’s cheeks are tugged into a faithful and content smile. “It’s funny. When I met you at your parents grave some days after the monsters broke the barrier, I honestly thought that you would align yourself with them.”

“Yeah,” Aofil nods, “you told me back then.”

“I did?” The pastor searches his mind. “You sure? Oh well, you’ve completely ran my disbelieves away by this point. You might not remember your twin, or the way you were before. Perhaps it’s for the better, but that doesn’t excuse the monsters. What they did to Chara and the other huma-”

A pen snaps violently behind the pastor. He turns around carefully to see the lawyer flying out of his chair.

“Sorry!” the lawyer huffs while scrambling to move as many papers away from the pooling ink as he possibly can. He puts a heavy head inside the palm of his other hand that’s not stained from the ink leaked from the now halved pen. He exhales an unsteady sigh that transitions into a faint sob.

“Maybe you should rest for a bit while you have the chance,” the pastor suggest with a warm and soothing voice.

“I can’t!” the lawyer says while squeezing his hand tightly around his forehead and eyes. “I have to-”

“You won’t be able to if you’re exhausted!” the pastor interrupts with a heightened volume to his voice. It’s still calming, but his implore shakes the room. His eyes are fixated on the lawyer, half cursing his stubbornness, and half begging that the lawyer will hear reason.

The lawyer exhales a long and deep heave.

“Aofil can clean up, right?” the pastor asks of Aofil with a pleading hand. “Find yourself somewhere to sleep for an hour. You’ll need your strength if you’re to hear what happened to your son.”

The lawyer agrees with a subtle nod. “I should. Thank you, father.” He leaves the room while massaging his forehead. A final sob makes it through the small glimpse just before the door is closed.

“You think he’ll be ready?” Aofil wonders out loud.

“He will.” The pastor turns back to Aofil with a reassuring smile. “And I’m going to ask you the same question.”

“I will,” Aofil answers without a second’s thought.

“I’m glad to hear that, Aofil.” The pastor puts a hand on the top of his backrest. “I’m heading out to meet the people outside. They’ll be ready once the trial starts, should you need them. Before I go I do want to mention how relieved I am still that your...curse...is on our side. The red soul truly is a powerful one. Move mountains with yours, Aofil. Or at least Ebott.”

Aofil nods. They’re not exactly clear what the whole soul business is, but they’ve decided to humor the pastor, and by extent the monsters, regardless. Theirs being the same as Chara’s is gonna be a nice ace for them.

With a quick wave goodbye, the pastor leaves Aofil alone in the office.

Well, not exactly alone.

“C-Chara?”

Aofil looks over their shoulder as they walk over to fetch some paper towels for the spilled coffee on the lawyer’s desk. “Yes?”

The flower leans side to side impatiently, trying its best to stay collected. It fails miserably. “H-how sure are you about this?”

Aofil rolls out a dozen or so squares of paper towels. “Absolutely.” They rip the squares free and carry them over to the stained desk.

“How absolutely s-sure are you?”

Didn’t the flower hear Aofil? “Absolutely sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Y-yeah...you see…that’s w-what I’m wondering. D-don’t you remember anything good from when you and I were together?”

Did it really have to use the word ‘together’? “What do you mean? Did you have a cru-”

“No!” the flower spurts out. Cheeks blushing almost as bright as Aofil’s. “N-no, t-that was the wrong word. I m-meant, when we lived with the king and queen.”

“Wasn’t that with Asriel?” Aofil shoots back along with a raised eyebrow. They start cleaning up the coffee that’s dangerously close to start dropping down onto the carpet below. “And you’re Flowey, right?”

“Y-yeah...I am. Still...” The flower looks away. “I j-just want to be sure that you’re a hundred percent sure about this.”

Aofil sends a quick scoff over their shoulder. “I’ve been a hundred percent from the get go. Why are you bringing this up at this point in time? And again?”

“We’ve both changed, Chara. This whole ordeal, with you being alive, and the trial against the monsters, and everything else, it’s all so sudden. If you compare it to the amount of time I was alone, it’s like a second to a week. Maybe even a month. Year. Eternity!”

Aofil hushes the monsters before anyone comes and asks what all this yelling is about. They snap a harsh finger towards the flower. “You have cold feet, I get that. We can’t jump ship now though, and why would we? Theirs is about to sink like a rock, and there will be no rescue boat sent out for the monsters.”

“I know! It’s just...”

“Are you with me?” Aofil asks with a slight worry to their tone. All conjured up, of course. They know how to work this monster, and they’re not gonna stop now.

“I am!”

“Good.” Aofil nods with a gentle smile. “Then that’s the last we’ll discuss about that.”

“Y-yeah. I understand, Chara.”

It’s the last Aofil is gonna discuss with Flowey period, but he doesn’t need to know that. Not now, they still got a trial to get through. But afterwards? Well, the trial is about the monsters being repented back to where they belong.

And what is Flowey not, but a monster?


	40. End of the first

“W-we d-did it, Chara!”

Pathetic.

“The m-monsters will never recover from this! T-they barely stayed comprehensible. I m-mean, it w-was fair for both s-sides, right?”

Weak.

“It’s n-not like I doubted you. Never, not for one second. I just feel so relieved that it worked! That it’s over!”

Unworthy.

“C-Chara?”

In the way.

“Chara?”

KILL!

“How are you?”

Aofil shakes their head. How did it go this wrong?

“Y-you did your creepy smile again.”

Their entire body is pulsating. Uncomfortably warm. Aofil can feel every single heartbeat of theirs echo throughout their bones and muscles. Every thump is as loud as a bomb. Pushing against their skull from the inside.

This kangaroo trial!

Such disgusting injustice!

“C-Chara?”

The monsters got off scot free! Their punishment was nothing more than a slap on their fingers! They’re still walking out of the courtroom by their own volition, on their own legs! That’s not enough!

“I told you that it was a bad idea to let the monsters show the magic on you, Chara. That lawyer didn’t know what he was talking about. It was a stupid idea of him to suggest you like that.”

Is that so? Is that what this monster thinks?

“Your cover was almost blown. What if the king and queen had found out that you were you, and not your twin? The lawyers reason for sending you up there was stupid. Even if the magic they surrounded you with was hurtful, and even if that meant the jury instantly caving to you.”

A monster calling a human’s idea stupid?

“They don’t deserve to know that you’re still alive, Chara! I won’t allow it! It’s just you and me, like it was always meant to be. And now...finally...”

What an idiot.

“We’ll be together on the Surface!”

A pathetic, worthless monster.

“C-Chara?”

So weak.

“W-why are you laughing?”

If it is what the monsters said, that one human soul is worth all the monster souls combined.

“Quiet! Someone might come!”

Then one human murdered is enough for the entirety of monsterkind.

“C-Chara!”

And they’ve killed seven!

“P-please, you’re scaring me!”

Aofil snaps their eyes on the flower cowering on the table inside its cheap and cracked pot. Sobbing fearfully. Just as it should. It feels it, Aofil knows. It feels their power, their determination. It’s flowing like the blood in their veins. Reaching out to each and every cell in Aofil.

The monsters wanted to show that their magic was harmless to humans, wanted to demonstrate it during the trial. What they didn’t account for was that their magic might’ve been harmless to humans, but not to themselves.

It did something to Aofil. It opened their eyes. They’ve always known how weak the monsters were, but they’ve never realized, physically realized. Their magic has shown Aofil that, should they choose, they can wipe the monsters away with less than minimal effort.

Aofil’s drunk with this vision, this realization of why the Barrier was created. It was not to protect the humans, it was to protect the monsters. Now that they’ve escaped, and now that there is no way for the humans to reconstruct the Barrier, there is only one way forward.

This curse that Aofil bears, it was labeled such after the Barrier was erected, according to the pastor’s testimony during the trial. It was a curse during a time without monsters. Now that the monsters have returned, Aofil’s destined to show the humans that they are a blessing.

Chara showed that a human couldn’t live with the monsters, and the six other kids were extensive proof of that.

The king spoke of hatred, spoke of being blinded by fear and anger, imploring to not make the mistakes he did.

He didn’t speak such out of kindness though. He failed to enact his revenge. He was too weak and feeble to go through with his actions, yet six children weren’t enough for him!

Worst of all, the jury bought it. The jury swallowed his sob story, his disgusting lies. The tears of monsters fell like waterfalls, waterfalls of deception.

How can there be mutual understanding? Mutilated, both the children the monsters killed, and the deceiving begging they did towards the jury. When the children begged for mercy down in the Underground, they weren’t granted any, yet here the king expects...No, demands, mercy to be show to him and his subjects! The other monsters plucked the same note, and before Aofil realized it, it was over.

Hands were shook, smiles were exchanged. Pleasant smiles, relieved smiles. Smiles that promised a joint future.

A joint future was the reason Chara died! The reason Aofil almost died!

The monsters again with their blasted tears, and their disgusting ways of molding what Aofil said into offering forgiveness. The lawyer’s betrayal, siding with the unfair ‘compromise’ that was set upon after the exhausting hours inside that damned courtroom.

The flower jitters fearfully as Aofil throws their fist down on the table.

There has to be a way for Aofil to show everyone what liars and murderers the monsters are! There has to be something they can do! They don’t have much time either! The monsters are about to hold a speech to the crowd outside. Aofil needs to stop them, but how?

“C-Chara?”

Wait! Aofil may not be able to stop it, but maybe they themselves don’t have to?

“Flowey,” Aofil says.

“Yes?”

“You’ll help me, right?”

“Yes!”

“Good, because we’re not done with the monsters.”

The flower’s eyes move side to side, frantically. “We’re not?” it asks with a shaky voice.

“Absolutely not!” The words trickle from Aofil’s lips like the most vile of poison. They’re not done! Not until the monsters have payed for what they’ve done. Payed for slaughter.

The door is knocked on carefully, and in comes the pastor. He stops in the door frame, staring at Aofil’s hunched over position, and deep, angry breathing.

“How are they?” Aofil asks as they lock eye contact with the pastor.

“W-who?” the pastor asked, a bit taken back by the sudden stare. His posture relaxes after a second though, and he closes the door behind him. “The monsters?”

Aofil’s head jerks to the side at that horrific word.

“The monsters are preparing to hold a press conference in a couple of minutes,” the pastor explains, “but I’m sure you already know of that.” He leans forward, almost as if he wants to get closer to Aofil. “They are,” he takes a deep breath, and stops talking. His face scrunches up into a variety of emotions, blending in and out, interweaving together, causing his wrinkles to loosen and contract multiple times per second.

He finally exhales after a short chortle to himself. As he opens his eyes, his eyebrows harden into a determined furrow.

“Aofil,” he speaks gently. “Is this you?” he asks, almost as if he’s congratulating Aofil. He doesn’t wait for an answer, and instead tucks his clamped hands under his chin. A knowing smile explodes from his jaw, and he nods. “Determination,” the pastor whispers to himself, “I never thought I’d feel it. Nevertheless emanating from another human to this extent. Your soul must be strong, Aofil. The crimson heart beats within you.”

Aofil puts their hand over their chest. Warm, pulsating. Like their cheeks. Burning with determination. Burning with what the monsters can never imagine to feel. Now the monsters are outside, proclaiming that they’re entitled to it. Entitled to be just as the humans that tower above them. They need to be reminded of their place in the world. The humans need to be reminded how high above they really are!

Aofil needs to remind their fellow humans, what I means to be human.

“Your choir is waiting for you outside, Aofil. Speak your red heart’s desire, and they will listen. They will lend you their ears, their hands, and their souls. They will walk with you to the ends of the world, lead them there. I’ll be there when the time comes.”

Aofil scoffs. The pastor sure likes to spruce up to the point of grandiose. Aofil’s not gonna rebuke him though, for amid all that theatrical fluff, he’s got a point. If justice can’t be served in the so called house of justice, then Aofil needs to make it happen themselves, and they know just how to do it.

Aofil taps the flower pot with a knuckle. “Flowey,” they say, “you got some more talking to do on the monster’s behalf.”

“I-if you say so,” Flowey responds with a weak nod.

Aofil wraps their fingers around the pot. “No.” They lift it up. “You’re saying so,” they wink.

A small giggle escapes Flowey, but it’s hesitant to even be audible.

Aofil leaves the pastor alone in the room with a small nod as a goodbye. They head out towards the main entrance, but it’s closed, and with a couple of security personnel guarding it.

“My fellow humans,” comes a loud and deep voice from outside. It’s the king’s! “Many of you have come here in hope of finding vengeance, to find revenge for the terrible things that have happened since our imprisonment, and the separation of our species.”

Dammit! He’s already started! No matter, Aofil can figure something out around it.

Aofil slinks off to the side, out through a side door, but as they try and go around the corner, they spot a pair of upright dogs standing with polearms crossed, blocking access to an elevated wooden platform. Their hooded appearance fail to hide their large muzzles, moving slowly over to Aofil’s way.

The muzzles wrinkle, and one of the guards puts up a large paw. “An audience with the king will follow after his speech, please register with Undyne, the head of the Royal Guard.” The guard moves its paw over to the side, pointing over to a large queue of press folk in front of a blue colored monster frantically writing as fast as it can. Next to it is a smaller, and fatter, yellow monster, writing just as fast.

“Can you kill them? The guards?” Aofil asks to the flower in their hands. “Don’t move, just say yes if you can.”

No answer.

“Flowey, I asked you a-”

“Yes,” the flower answers without emotion. “Just get me close.”

“Can you fill up the robes with your vines afterwards? Make it seem like they’re still alive?”

“Yes.”

“Alright.”

Aofil walks up to the guards.

“Human, we told you th-”

The large dog bends over.

“Dogges-”

And the other follows shortly after.

Aofil looks down at Flowey in their hands. Two large vines are extended from him, towards the guards. Aofil follows the vines with their eyes, seeing that they’ve impaled the two dogs in their respective throats.

The dogs muzzle start to shake with fear, and as their features start to fade away, and turn to dust, they give one last look towards each other.

They try to speak, but not a sound escapes them.

Flowey makes sure of that.

Their pained and panicked expression softens, like an old water stain on a piece of paper, and it’s not long before they collapse. Two clouds of glittering and pale dust bursts up as the pile that’s left of the two guards crash on the concrete ground.

Their robes and weapons barely have time to move as Flowey fills in the hollow fabric and vacant grip with vine twisted into the shape of the guards that just a moment before inhabited the clothes and commanded the weapons. The two marionettes takes a step forward in conjunction, obscuring the dust from any outside viewer.

“Done,” Flowey says.

Aofil barely hears him. Enthralled, they can only stare at the iridescent shards still hovering in the air. They stretch out one hand to feel it.

Dust. What a monster truly is. Just dust. Nothing but a miserable pile of weakness and pathetic. Aofil feels a smile tug at their lips. A grin, eager for more.

Aofil’s fingers eagerly, and with borderline perversion, rub together the dust stuck in their hand. All the way out to their very claws. What was not but a breath ago a monster is now hanging like crystal snow off the fur on Aofil’s hand. They blow on it, and it flutters away.

The warmth inside them grows, and surges through their body like a crashing wave on a golden beach. The rushing blood through their ears sounds just like the wave receding from the sand.

Aofil bends down, and scoops up a handful of dust in their hand. So soft, so clean. The despair the monsters felt just before they died is still present, the last emotion they felt. The feeling is intense, like how carbonation would be, should it be physical. Tickling, almost.

Aofil lets the dust flow between their fingers, like the sands of time, but the dust of monsters. Just as the first is always spilling, always rushing like the largest and most violent of waterfalls, so too shall Aofil make the latter.

The king still speaks of cooperation, of trust, yet he hasn’t shown any. Demanding fully, despite not putting it forward first, not showing that he’s willing to sacrifice. There’s no respect shown for the sea of unmistakably more powerful beings before him. Such arrogance! How dumb does he think that the humans are? To believe that humans are so gullible to eat it up would be...

Why aren’t the crowd booing? Why are they not erupting, collecting their voices to curse this wretched king’s tongue?

Aofil takes a leap up the stairs leading up to the wooden platform the dogs were guarding. Their haste almost has Flowey dragging with him his puppets, but he’s quick enough to make them only flinch, and regain their balance just a second afterwards.

They have to find a way to shut off the microphone, and a way to reroute it to Flowey so that he can speak what the king truly means.

Aofil halts just before rounding the court building’s corner. They’re just a few steps from the monsters as the king stops speaking. He turns around, and beckons for someone behind him. He then leans into the microphone again.

“I’d like you present to you, the human that saved us all, the human that brought hope, and showed us monsters back here to the Surface.”

A small child, wearing a purple and blue striped sweater, emerges from behind Asgore’s cape. It steps up to the podium, looking over the crowd that stretches the entire parking lot. A wall of vans stand at the end of the lot, but there are still people behind it, Aofil sees.

“My name...is Fr-”

Aofil looks back at the podium, at the child staring back at them. Their face is frozen, and rapidly draining of color. Violent convulsions follow shortly after, and the child pushes away from the podium while grimacing in pain.

The king behind the child reaches over, and puts one of his hands on the child’s shoulder.

“Nothing to fear, Frisk.”

There’s a thick quiet hanging in the air. Aofil can hear whispering from the crowd. Unease, uncertainty, uncomfortable. Seeds of doubt.

Perfect.

“No!”

The whispers are shut silent as the child whips around, and with all its might, shoves the king’s hand away from them. They back off in fear with their head snapping from monster to monster.

This is it! The single moment Aofil needs!

But what about Flowey?

No, Aofil doesn’t need his voice anymore. Not when they have a human to use instead of a measly monster. They do need his body one last time.

“Remove your vines from the robes, Flowey!” Aofil whispers harshly. The flower turns around to ask why, but Aofil shuts it down with a mad glare. The flower obeys, but before it again can ask why, Aofil moves the pot up to their face.

They lean into the flower.

“What are you doing?”

“Shh!”

When they feel one of its thorns dig deep into their chin, they shove the pot backwards while throwing their head forwards.

Their pained yell steals the attention from the child, the monsters behind the podium, and the crowd.

“Chara?! What are y-” the flower again tries to ask, but fails to for the last time. Aofil throws the pot with all their might against the monsters, and emerge into the spotlight from behind the curtains.

The flower pot smashes just before the king’s feet, sending shards of old ceramic flying in all directions. The dirt seeps between the cracks in the wooden floor, and the flower tumbles out violently.

Hot blood is pouring down the gash on Aofil’s cheek as they rush forward towards the child. It’s too petrified to even move as Aofil wraps their arms around it to try and protect it from the monsters. It’s drained and quivering stare and heavy breathing is the only indications of the child being alive.

“They attacked me!” Aofil shouts to the people in the crowd. “One of the monsters have been disguised as a flower this entire time, and now that the trial is over it tried to kill me!”

Aofil throws an accusatory finger towards the flower writhing on the planks before the monsters. “It’s been with me all this time, during all the time we’ve spent building our case. It’s been spying for the monsters!”

The collective heads of the crowd turn to the monsters. Aofil sees the king and queen flinch violently. The two large monsters look down on the flower desperately trying to catch its bearings, over to Aofil dragging Frisk, with their hands pressed firmly against their shaking head, away, and back to the crowd.

“That’s why they got away!” Aofil screams at the top of their lungs. “That’s why the kids they murdered will never have justice! That’s why my twin will never rest peacefully!”

The king and queen’s head shoot back to Aofil, mouths hanging open in scared confusion.

“You monsters killed Chara!”

The hanging mouths slam close in an instant, as the king and queen buckle from the words Aofil’s throwing at them. The monsters take strain on the podium, and it almost breaks from the weight.

“You killed my twin, and then you-”

Frisk is janked from Aofil’s arms, as an armor wielding monsters sprints by them. It’s the blue one from the registration table! How dare!

The monster places Frisk next to the king and queen, before turning back to Aofil.

“Human!” the monsters shouts. She flexes her wrist, and a cyan spear forms. The light and crackling from it sends a wave of gasps throughout the crowd. “Where are the guards that stood on the way here?” The monsters lifts her spear against Aofil. “Did you kill them?”

How would she even begin to challenge a human? Arrogant monster! That armor won’t do it any good! It won’t even-

Aofil’s focus is torn away from the huffing monster, and towards the crowd. Above it, and moving quickly towards the podium, is a jagged rock rotating rhythmically in the air. Aofil follows it with their eyes with increasing eagerness. How it nears the collapsed king and queen more and more with each passing second until...

The rock smashes against the queen’s head, whipping it backwards forcibly. The stone bounces off with a deep thud, and with a trail of dust on, and behind it. The soft sound of the impact, combined with the pained howl of the queen, rumbles the wooden structure beneath Aofil.

The blue monsters turns around, calling out for the queen. “Queen Toriel!”

In that moment, Aofil takes the lunge. The king and queen are wide open!

“Oh no, you don’t!” screams the blue monsters as it whips around, and just barely catching Aofil with a forceful grip as Aofil tries to sprint past it. It sweeps Aofil’s legs with its own. “Punk!”

Aofil braces for the landing, but they’re caught mid air by the armored monster that’s now behind them. The handle of its spear goes up against their throat, holding them down.

“They’re trying to kill them!” comes a voice from the crowd. Aofil smiles as the words reach their ears.

It’s the pastor.

What was it he said again? About Aofil’s soul?

Determination. Aofil needs to focus it. They need to let their Crimson Heart beat louder than ever! Aofil closes their eyes. They focus on the warm feeling inside them. Spread it out! They have to spread it out! Let it go through their head, their fingers, their toes! Everywhere! They let their heart beat as everyone’s! With each thud, they see the crowd getting angrier. With each thud, they see the crowd realizing. With each thud, they realize that Aofil’s spoken what they’ve wanted to say. Each thud has them realizing more and more that Aofil’s voice is theirs. Aofil’s mouth will speak their words.

Now Aofil just have to say the words, and their fate will be reality.

“Kill them!”

A bottle comes flying, and not from the pastor. This time it smashes against the monster trying to subdue Aofil. Shards of broken glass hang in the air, just like the ceramic pieces off the flower’s pot. The blue monster stumbles backwards, and Aofil manages to struggle loose.

“Dirty tricks! How dare you, human?” roars the armored monster.

Aofil pays it no mind though. Their eyes are on someone else. The monster that’s hunched over, desperately trying to hold his queen together. Desperately trying to wake her up.

Pathetic.

Aofil bends one arm down to catch the jagged neck of the bottle thrown.

Weak.

The child looks over the now trampling crowd closing rapidly in towards the podium stand. The roars from it is deafening.

Unworthy.

Aofil’s reflection is revealed as the king realizes that they’re closing in. His cape is brushed aside, showing his polished breastplate.

In the way.

Aofil’s grizzled muzzle is grinning. Their cheeks are glowing. Aofil’s horns almost bend forward in excitement. Wrapped inside their clawed fingers is the first strike for the justice of the humans. For now, only their arm is dusted by the remains of the monsters, only a few particles are dancing from the wind on their snow white fur.

KILL!

Aofil takes the leap, closing in on the king with the bottle raised high to secure the first strike. Their red eyes reflect like two glistening stars in the king’s plate. They descent with a fury unlike any seen by monsters since the war before the Barrier. Aofil’s weapon is thrown down against the exposed throat, and-


	41. The wake of wakening

“What...what happened? Where am I?”

“oh, you’re awake. how was your trip down memory lane, aof? you managed to bring any postcards back? maybe some about the dreemurrs and that you’ve now slept away all the drama between you and them? tell me about your travels, aof, i’m all ears. we got time, don’t worry.”

“Who’s there? Why are...”

“you look absolutely horrible, aof. i’m not even exaggerating, if anything i’m understating. nothing a good shower won’t fix though. maybe some tea and a slice of snail pie afterwards. yes, that is indeed an excellent idea, aof. i’ll fetch a slice for myself.”

A gentle breeze brushes against Aofil’s face.

Who’s voice was that? Aofil feels that they should know who it is. Yet, they can’t put their finger on it. They can barely open their eyes. Everything feels so heavy. That gentle breeze almost knocked them out. Aofil’s head is spinning. Thoughts are crashing into each others in their head. Memories, about the same time, but about different things. Laughs, screams, cries, both of pain, and mourning, they all blend together like a horrible symphony straight from hell. What does it all mean? What’s real? What isn’t?

It’s all so confusing, it’s all so strange, yet familiar, yet so far away. Close enough for Aofil to cower from the impending tide of cognitive mishmash. It’s at the same time too long gone that Aofil’s feels vertigo even considering reaching out to it. They feel...they feel…

Another gust of wind appears.

“bucket, right next to you.”

Aofil bumps the metal container with their elbow as they flail their arms to their sides, and then shove it under their head. Their stomach and throat surges violently from all the ruckus in their mind, and they heave until they feel drained of the smallest drop of liquid.

“well now you’ve gone and ruined my appetite here, aof. probably for the better though, don’t want to ruin this perfect beach body i’ve worked on all year. gotten a lot of practice snoozing while papyrus cooks, so i’ll have no problem sleeping with the salty wind in my face. not that big of a difference, actually.”

Aofil collapses back down on their back. A third wind appears. Where are they? A fourth wind returns shortly after.

“convulse violently if you want another bucket underneath your head.”

Just a moment ago they were about to strike at…No, it wasn’t them that wanted to strike? Aofil’s a human, so why did they see a monster in the reflection from Asgore’s plate armor? It looked...it looked like when Aofil fused with Asriel all those years ago. Yet, Aofil felt in control, they felt like every action was their own. Why did they want to strike at Asgore though?

He’s a monster.

Yes, but…

A monster!

Aofil’s been around monsters plenty, so why? There’s something nipping at the back of their mind though. They’re...angry at them. Angry at the monsters, because of reasons. What kind of reasons, Aofil can’t pinpoint. What kind of anger is it too? Is it hate, or is it...hate?

Aargh! It’s not the same! Aofil’s, somewhat, sure about that! They’re angry, they’re livid, but it’s not because of the same reason. They want to…they want to? What do they want?

“this snail pie is really good, by the way. toriel’s outdone herself, again.”

There’s loud chewing.

“found my appetite! it rolled under the bucket full of your puke. it is however rolling away yet again now that i said ‘puke’, but i’m gonna say ‘freshly picked snails and delicious crust’ and have it roll right back.”

More loud chewing.

“ah yes, there it is.”

That insane grin, exposing glistening white teeth underneath equally glistening white fur, and gritted in a determined smile. Aofil remembers feeling it on their lips, but it wasn’t their lips? It was a muzzle grinning like a demon possessed them, but it wasn’t them!

Slurps of liquid followed by a quenched exhale interrupts Aofil in their thoughts.

“no tea, i’m afraid. water’s nice though. you thirsty?”

“Yeah.”

Aofil’s voice is like gravel poured onto a desert.

Wait! Why did Aofil answer?! The voice is a monster! He…he is a monster. Aofil’s angry at the monsters! Yet, they answered. Without hesitation. Without even thinking. This monster, is a monster.

Yes, but he’s a monster though.

Aofil feels their forehead wrinkle. What?

And who is it?

“just hold your hand out, aof. don’t mumble into the water.”

Aofil stretches their hand out, and a glass is nestled between their fingers. They caress it, and it suddenly gains weight.

“please forgive my usage of magic. i’m not gonna be in arm’s reach of you right now. not because you look horrible, and smell just as you look. well, a bit because of that, not gonna lie. not again, that is. it’s not the main reason though.”

Aofil can’t help but feel betrayed by themselves. The reason why they can’t figure out. It’s all starting to become hazy. The reasons why their anger just were, and why it’s fading away.

“drink, aof. you have to be parched. first you were porched, what with falling asleep in the sun chair, and now you’re parched. you think if you slept some more that you’d loop back to the end of the alphabet and become pyrched?”

Oh yeah! That’s Sans.

Aofil feels their sudden smile fall into a tired frown.

Oh no! It’s Sans.

“ah, so you do remember me, aof! i’d recognize that tired sigh and or grunt anywhere. still not gonna come closer. you still look like you wanna take a swing at me, again. so i’m not gonna come up and hug you just yet unless i’m sure you’ve cooled down. you still smell like you took a long vacation in the garbage dump. just so that you’re perfectly aware of that, because i certainly am.”

Aofil moves the glass up to their mouth. They feel this headache grow all of a sudden. They slowly raise the glass up to their lips. Their lips seem to be a bit stuck together though, and Aofil opens their mouth wider.

Like splitting a drawn line by ripping the paper apart, Aofil’s lips open up like an old and rusty zipper. Fused skin pops off their lower lips, and follows the upper lip.

The glass falls out of Aofil’s hand.

“when i said cooled down, aof, i didn’t mean literally. also-”

The loud coughs and pained inhales interrupts Sans mid sentence. Aofil flies upright, rubbing their lips, and flinching as they scrape their now exposed flesh. Their teeth instinctively move down to their lower lip to cope with the pain, but it only results in more burning agony. They can taste blood.

And still they can’t open their damn eyes! There’s so much gunk, it’s like glue. To top it all off, their entire chest is doused in ice cold water. Everything they tried to make sense of is no longer important! Their mind is backseated for now! Their body takes screaming priority!

“What the fuck is happening!”

Aofil violently rubs their eyes, but each rub is like dragging their knuckle through gravel. They’re trying to excavate their eyes using nothing but their bare hands, when what they feel like they need is heavy machinery!

“you want a refill to wash them off?”

Aofil shoots their arm out towards the voice. “Yes!”

“did you just take a swing at me?”

Not now!

“Sans. I can’t fucking see!”

“and you want me to enable you to see? so that you can hit me more easily?”

God fucking dammit!

“Sans! I swear!”

“not really improving my suspicions with that, aof!”

Oh for-

Aofil presses their fingers against the eyelids, and with some careful, and extremely uncomfortable, pulling, their eyes snap open. The world is a messy blur for a good while before Aofil finally manages to see properly.

“quite the eye opening experience.”

Carefully, very, very, carefully, Aofil plucks what gunk they can from their eyelashes. It’s rock solid.

“a proper shower might be better for you.”

With one hand busy with its respective eye, Aofil swirls around to the skeleton leaned back, out of reach, in a chair. A plate filled with crumbs sits on his lap, and a fork’s handle is hanging out of the permanent smile. “just an idea, that’s all,” the skeleton says with a slight shrug. “i don’t think the royals will mind. in fact,” Sans moves the fork to the other side of his mouth, indicating towards a chair on the far side of the room, “there are some clothes there for you to wear afterwards.”

Aofil follows where the fork is pointing with their one open eye. On the chair is indeed a pile of clothes. Purple in color. Royal purple. Aofil can also see the outlines of a white symbol in the folds.

“this is me betting that you’re back to normal here, aof. if you’d be so kind and not make me regret that, i’d be very grateful.”

“Is this the Dreemurrs house?” Aofil asks as they peel the sheets off their clingy clothes. Sweaty, stinky, stuck, super in need of a wash and a shower.

“ay!” Sans exclaims. The fork in his mouth falls out, but he catches it with his hand. “you can say their name. fantastic, that’s step one done! might be the easiest step though, considering what you’re about to do.”

Oh yeah?

“And what would that be?” Aofil shoots with a sarcastic undertone louder than their inquisitive tone.

“talk with them about everything so that you can move back. i’ve already bought a balloon for the housewarming party. well, to be fair, i found it,” the skeleton admits with a spinning motion of his wrist. “nevertheless, i’m saving it for the party.”

Aofil’s knees feel like two bags of coarse sand, but they’re holding them upright. Barely. It feels a bit better once their blood starts circulating through them though.

“Don’t inflate it just yet,” Aofil advises the skeleton as they carefully walk over to the chair with the clothes. A stumble has them almost falling over, but they catch themselves on the chair’s back. With one arm, Aofil scoops up the clothes, and heads towards the door. “Where’s the shower?” they ask Sans.

“just like that? not even gonna tell me about what you’ve experienced?”

“I feel horrible, I look horrible, I smell horrible. My head’s a fucking mess. I need a shower first and foremost. Like, right now, or else I’m gonna climb up the walls and scream until I pass out,” Aofil makes very clear with a face that’s too tired to show any emotion whatsoever.

“fair enough,” Sans shrugs. “you want me to show where’s the shower?” he then says with a proud smile.

Aofil sighs. “Yes.”

“down the hall, to your left.”

“Anyone else home?” Aofil asks before opening the door.

“don’t know. i’ve been busy watching over you.”

“For how long?” Aofil says, despite not really wanting to know the answer.

“a while.”

Aofil finds that hard to believe. The way Sans said it, there’s a lot behind that. “So you’ve been with me all the time?” Aofil guesses.

“oh no.” Sans waves his hand in disbelief. “don’t be silly. we’ve rotated guard duty.”

“Right. Who’s we?”

“we,” Sans repeats. He stretches his arms out while tilting his head. “you remember who ‘we’ are, right?”

“The gang?”

Sans’ brow sinks a bit as he runs the word through his head. “the gang? i guess you could call it that.” Judging by the tone of his voice, he’s not really convinced.

“And what would you call ‘we’ then?” Aofil wonders with a tilt of their own head.

“friends.”

There’s a silence between the two, causing Sans to withdraw his arms, and his brow to sink further. “alright then,” he whispers, leaning back in his chair with a disappointed look on his face.

“Sans-”

“no, you don’t have to say anything, aof. your mind is a jumble, i get that. however,” Sans punctuates with a harshness Aofil’s never heard from him before, “here’s the thing. your memories came back to haunt you because they became relevant somehow. from what frisk’s have said, during the first reset you were...like your twin. riddle me this then, aof, why was that relevant to you? the memories. why did you have to use the memory box?”

Aofil’s grip hardens on the door handle. How dare this monster question them!? How dare-

No!

Aofil pushes a hand up to their forehead, pressing against it with the palm of their hand. It’s like lightning, just bursting through their mind. It’s so painful.

“so that’s how it is then?” Sans lets out a weary sigh. “can’t really say that i’m jumping with joy over the fact that you wanted to do harm to us, but i guess living it out inside your head is better than living it out outside your head. as long as you just don’t also live it out outside, it’s all fine by me. we’ll chalk it up to your twin still having some grip over you, just like frisk, and we’ll put this all behind us. we’ll look forward to tomorrow, where we all sit on your patio and watch the lightning together, as you promised.”

Aofil just wants to use the shower. “Sans, I don’t really want to talk about this right now. I’m exhausted, my head is a damn mess.”

“the memories will fade, should fade, in a bit,” Sans interjects.

“Can I just use the shower now? Try and wash everything away?”

“just don’t kill anyone, ok?”

Aofil doesn’t answer, they just shut the door behind them.

“otherwise i don’t think toriel will let you have any pie, that is,” Sans adds after opening the door again just slightly. “just looking out for you, pal.” He closes it again gently.

What a damn mess.

“oh, and i told the others that i had the radio on,” Sans remembers as he opens the door ajar again. “so they don’t know that you’re awake yet. they’re probably ninety percent sure, but they wouldn’t risk the remaining ten. i can also tell them that it’s me showering, if you want.”

“How many of them are here?”

“all of them.”

Great.

“Yeah, sure.”

The door is closed for a third time, and Aofil is left standing in the hallway. From downstairs they can hear Sans quickly saying that he feels for a shower.

“YOU’VE ALREADY SHOWERED YOUR ONCE THIS WEEK THOUGH, SANS! HOW COME?”

Papyrus is really loud, as if that comes to a surprise to Aofil. They feel like it shouldn’t, yet they still flinch backwards at the volume.

They damn well need that shower.

So they head back towards the end of the hallway. The commotion from downstairs becomes quieter with each step Aofil takes. So tired, so weak, so confused. Too much, it’s all too much.

Their head is swimming with so many contradicting thoughts that they barely can focus enough to even walk. Every step feels like an exam they’ve not prepared for. Why couldn’t the bathroom be closer? Why couldn’t the monsters just have gone back to the Underground? Why didn’t Aofil just leave before they had to use a damn memory box?

Aofil fumbles with the handle to the bathroom, and with some effort, they push it down, and swing the door open.

The sound of a plucked guitar string has Aofil lifting their heavy head up.

“Um...”

That is…someone. A monster. Looks familiar.

“Uh...”

The young boss monster’s hands are frozen on his guitar. “You’re awake?” he asks with a very perplexed look after a long and awkward silence.

Aofil blinks hard, as the embarrassment washes over them. “Yeah,” they stumble out after an equally long pause. They’re still not a hundred percent sure who that monster is. He looks similar to the one from the reflection in Asgore’s plate. “I was looking for the shower.”

Asriel shakes his head as he can’t really understand what he’s hearing, or what is happening. “It’s just across.”

Oh yeah, Asriel is his name.

With a very strange smile Aofil throws a thumb over their shoulder. “Guess I took the wrong door.”

Asriel nods, slowly. “Yeah...guess you did. Also, aren’t those clothes yours?”

“No, I just-” Aofil looks up again, as their head immediately started slumping down. They see Asriel looking across the room, towards the person sitting on the other side with the same wide eyed stare as Asriel had just a moment ago.

“Oh, Frisk,” Aofil mumbles to themselves.

Frisk just stares.

“Anyway,” falls out of Aofil’s mouth without them even thinking about speaking. “I’m gonna use the shower now.”

They close the door, turn around clumsily, and open the one on the opposite side of the hallway. Rapid footsteps trample a second or so after Aofil enters the bathroom. They double check to make sure that they didn’t forget to lock the door.

They did forget.

So they lock it.

Their used clothes almost bounce on the tile floor as Aofil struggles to get them off. Not to mention the almost peeling sensation Aofil feel when removing them from their body. They halfheartedly push the solid pile of dried clothes to the side with their foot, and step into the shower, ignoring the strands of white hair dotting around the drain.

Finally!

Instinctively they flick the right side of the gauge to summon the water.

But nothing comes.

They see that it was the temperature gauge they flicked. No biggie, just have to flick the other and-

“Fucking hell!”

A torrent of ice cold water crashes against their head. The tiredness they felt absorbing their mind and body is crushed underneath the surge of adrenaline shooting out throughout their entire being. Aofil shuts the water off as quickly as they can.

They step out of the shower while rubbing their face. The gunk that clotted their eyelashes falls off, and circles with the water down into the drain. A fair share of the white hairs follow too.

Alright! Now they’re awake!

A few soft knocks tap the door. “Aofil?” Toriel asks from the other side.

“Yeah!” Aofil yells back, still with their heart in their throat from the cold shock they just experienced.

There’s a pause. Aofil’s deep breathing is echoing inside the bathroom. They almost have it under control, as Toriel begins speaking again.

“Do you want some tea when you’re done? A slice of pie? Butterscotch? Cinnamon? Perhaps both?”

“Sounds good!”

Aofil exhales deeply.

“Sounds good,” they repeat with a more steadfast voice.

“We’ll wait for you. Take your time.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Aofil returns into the shower making a top priority to readjust the temperature gauge to a more comfortable temperature. As the water pours again, Aofil holds only their hand out in the falling water’s grace to feel when it’s safe to step in.

Another knock has them turning the water off again. With a shiver they turn their head towards the door. “Yes?”

“Did you find the clothes, Aofil? I put some out for you.”

“Yes,” Aofil answers while motioning to the pile next to their filthy one. The fact that Toriel can’t see that they’re pointing isn’t dawning on them. “I found them.”

“Are there towels there for you?”

“I’m naked, Toriel,” Aofil informs in a desperate attempt to get her to walk away. “Can I please shower in peace?”

“Y-yes!” she shouts through the door, flustered to the point that Aofil can hear it clearly in her voice. “Of c-course!”

That rock must’ve hit her harder than Aofil expected.

Dammit!

Aofil throws their fist against the wall behind the shower. These thoughts! Again! The memory box wasn’t real! It was just…

Their memory.

Aofil heaves a sigh, both weary, and aggravated over their hand. They shake it loose to relieve some of the pain. They didn’t punch a hole in the tiles, but it sure felt like it. For a third time Aofil engages the shower. They don’t care if it’s unbearably cold now, they just want it to wash away everything.

Luckily, the small window of time they had while feeling with their hand warmed the water enough for it not to collapse their heart into shock. Aofil looks up, the drops smashing against their face. They drag their hands through their hair, splitting the stuck parts into less than wrist thick clumps.

They stop their hands by their neck, and clasp them together behind it. Their elbows counter balance Aofil leaning their head back again into the connected palms of their hands.

The drops once again drum on their face.

“FUCK!” they yell. With all their strength. With everything that remains of their vigor. It’s loud, it hurts their already rasped throat. They cough immediately after, and again they taste blood. Their own voice rings in their own ears.

But they had to do it. They had to let it out. Now they let the water wash away what’s left. Wash away their thoughts, their confusion, their everything. Just...silence now.

“Aofil! What happened?” comes a scared and anxious voice through the door yet again.

No answer. Aofil keeps their head upwards towards the water. It’s pouring like the Waterfall.

“Aofil! Are you-”

“I’m fine!” Aofil answers without moving their head. “Leave me be! I’ll be down when I’m done.”

“I heard you scream.” Toriel is almost apologetic. Her concern is soft. It’s nostalgic, it reminds Aofil. They don’t want to be reminded though, not now.

Their head needs to be clear, or, as clear as possible. They need to be alone now. Just them, and themselves, to try and figure things out.

“I’ll come down when I’m done,” Aofil repeats.

There’s a brief pause before the response comes. “I understand.”

She doesn’t. None of them can. Not in this reset, or the one before, or the one before that.

The water keeps on pouring, and pouring, and pouring. Slowly, Aofil feels their head becoming lighter in their hands. The thoughts of the events that never happened yet did at the same time time as well as never meld together, and split apart. Come together, and repulse each other.

The being that was Aofil, the being that attacked Asgore, that aspired with Flowey, that felt such hate against the monsters. Its actions doesn’t feel like it came from Aofil. It doesn’t feel like Aofil was the one to control them. It was a monster, it was someone else.

Their motivation, their reason behind, their enjoyment.

That Aofil feels. That they can think back on now. They can reason for it, they can understand why, how, and because, that being did it.

Would they have done it again?

Maybe.

They didn’t though. This time around they didn’t.

The motivations feel out of place when Aofil thinks back on what they themselves feel happened. The snail ordeal, training with Undyne, playing with MK and Frisk when they were so small. Hell, even Muffet.

Those happening, those events, those Aofil feels that they did. Each movement was their own, each thought, but not the same ones that wanted the monsters dead and gone.

Although…

All the other things, traveling the Underground, almost dying. Bringing back Asriel, meeting Chara, their curse. For those, Aofil feels the same as when they think back on the being holding the broken glass just above Asgore’s head.

It’s clear though, and that’s all that matters now. What’s next to do, is to set things straight with the monsters.

Aofil’s skin has gone wrinkly from all the water. The sun seems to be setting as well through the bathroom window.

How long were they showering?

No matter, they had to do it.

Aofil fetches a towel from the rack. After drying themselves they size up the clothes Toriel laid out for them. The material is the same as Toriel’s robe. It’s somewhat their size. Although, the fit is not gonna be perfect, even without the size difference. They’re clearly Frisk’s clothes.

It’s not like they’re gonna prance around in them though, and the clothes seem comfy enough. Eh, whatever. Aofil have bigger problems than looking like a g-

“You done?”

Is that…

Aofil hastily ties a knot with the belt around their waist. They don’t even bother making sure that there is properly dried before unlocking and opening the door.

“I...” Frisk’s voice wavers as they process seeing Aofil in their clothes. “You...you’re going down to talk with mom and dad, right?”

“...I am.”

Frisk nods to themselves. “Sorry, about Chara, and everything else. I tried to get you to stay, and I thought that maybe if you heard Chara explain it all, I thought-”

Frisk trails off. Their hand balls into a fist. “They’re gone,” they whisper.

Oh.

Aofil’s not sure how to feel, if they’re supposed to feel it all. Perhaps they’re too tired, too exhausted, but for now it’s just.

Nothing.

“I see,” they still answer. “Went away when you woke up?”

Frisk nods.

“And that’s why you can talk to me now?”

Another nod.

“Have you told Asgore and Toriel?”

Head shake.

“Do you wa-”

“No!”

Aofil flinches back. “Alright, alright.”

Frisk falls into their torso, wrapping their arms around Aofil. Aofil almost falls backwards, and have to grab the door frame so they don’t. They drag themselves upright, and place their hands awkwardly on Frisk’s shoulders.

“I don’t want to lose you too...” the sobbing human coughs. “I promised Chara. I promised myself.”

Aofil gently, yet still firmly, pushes Frisk away from their chest. “Frisk,” Aofil sighs to the side. “If it happens that I can’t stay here, then it’s not your fault. It’s the monsters. I know that they have good intentions, but you can still hurt someone despite having good intentions. I’m sure that you’re aware of that, Frisk.”

Frisk’s lips curl up.

“I need to confront them about this, about everything I’ve done, and everything they’ve done. It’s not only for my sake, but for theirs as well. They’ve done wrong to me, and I have to have them hear me telling them that. It isn’t a matter of apologizing, because they’re gonna do so instantly. I won’t even be able to finish talking before they’re gonna throw their hearts out in forgiveness. It’s not about that. It’s about...”

What is it about?

“...It’s about...”

Aofil doesn’t know.

Maybe that’s the reason? That they don’t know. That they don’t know what has hurt them, what has them hesitating to come back. They know what the monsters done. They need more hands than what they have to count it all.

Yet, they can’t say what needs to be done to fix it. What the monsters can do to make it up to Aofil.

“Is it about you?” Frisk asks after seeing Aofil struggle with their own thoughts.

“Maybe...” Aofil let’s go of Frisk’s shoulders. “Maybe. I want to come back, but if I do it now, then it won’t be fair to myself. It won’t be fair to what I’ve gone through. I’ve almost died, I’ve fused magically, I’ve experienced so much that a human, or a monster, should ever go through. It’s not something I can just shrug off. I’m gonna have those memories forever. They’re never gonna leave me. I just…I need them to somehow convince me that they can dampen the thoughts, that they can keep my mind away from these memories.”

Aofil looks down the hallway, towards the stairs leading down. “And all of the memories are about them. They have a lot of explaining to do, but I don’t know what I want them to explain about.”

A lovely smell of sweet and sour hits Aofil’s nose. Golden Flower tea.

“Smells like tea is ready. I should probably head down there before it becomes cold. I guess they’re reheating it though, since I was in that shower for so long.”

Frisk nods.

“Guess I should head down before it becomes cold again then.”

Another nod.

“Did Chara say something about me before they disappeared?”

Third nod.

“Thank you,” Frisk says while putting their hand over their heart. "They wanted me you to know."

Aofil’s not sure why they asked, but they still feel warm from hearing the answer.

“I see.”

The hallway feels a bit shorter to Aofil now that they can walk somewhat normally. The stairs down is a bit of a chore though, and they use the hand railing as support. Once down they turn the corner into the kitchen.

Whatever silent commotion halts, and all eyes move over to Aofil. They head for the empty chair at the end of the table. Undyne spins it around for them, and Aofil sits down. On the other side of the table, Toriel motions between two pies. Aofil shrugs, and throws a hand towards the one on the right.

A carved piece, along with a cup of tea, is passed over. The sweet and sour dance has been a long time coming, and Aofil indulges in the taste for a long while before setting their cup down on the table.

As the silence again takes precedent, an anxious sob is heard from upstairs.

“Go upstairs,” Asgore asks of Asriel. “Take care of your sibling, please.”

Toriel agrees with a nod. “We’ll call for you two a bit later. Sound good?”

Asriel looks towards his parents, then over to Aofil. He stands up with a conflicted expression, but is halted by Toriel.

“Take these with you.” She carves out a couple of pie slices, and hands two small plates over to Asriel, along with a gentle kiss on his forehead. “It’s all gonna be fine.”

Asriel passes Aofil without so much as a glance from either of them.

Aofil takes another sip of their tea.

They roll up their sleeve, and put their patch of fur out on the table for all to see.

With a solemn nod, Asgore takes a deep breath.


	42. One's own worst enemy

“Before we start, Aofil, I want to reiterate that whatever you decide, you will always have a place here,” Asgore says while moving his large arm across the table, indicating to everyone sitting next to him. They all nod in agreement. “I understand, we all understand, that it is your choice, and no matter which you choose, we will support you making it.”

“You have done so much for us, Aofil,” Toriel adds with a gentle smile, again making sure that the rest of the table agrees with her. “You’ll always be welcome here, whenever you choose, and for how long you choose. You’ve done so much to us that you can’t even fathom.”

Can’t fathom? Can’t understand?

Maybe that’s the problem.

“You don’t have to do this with all of us present,” Toriel makes clear with a gentle nod. “We can leave if you’d rather talk to us one by one. We want to help you, Aofil, and we’ll do it your way.”

Aofil looks down on their arm. “Before I begin, I want to know what you feel about this?” they ask. “Do you know how Asriel came back? What happened in my basement?”

Toriel and Asgore share a look, and Asgore nods quietly. “We know that it was you,” he says with a conflicted voice. “You, and Asriel. We could feel it as we descended the stairs. I trust that you know what happened to your twin and Asriel.”

Aofil knows. First hand experience. Should they mention it? They can’t remember it, and their soul is now whole again. It’s because of the attack Asriel and Chara did that broke it in the first place though. Maybe if their soul was whole they could’ve handled what followed better.

But if their soul wasn’t broken, then they wouldn’t have been able to bring back Asriel.

That doesn’t sound like a positive to Aofil at the moment. They still can’t handle it all despite having as whole a soul as possible now… So?

Maybe that’s something they should’ve talked more to Chara about? They’re sure as hell not gonna say anything to Asriel. Aofil can’t imagine anything good coming out of him, they don’t even know what they want him to answer. No, Chara was the best option. Too late for that now though… Question still remains if they should ask Toriel and Asgore about the attack. Or would that just add more to the already overflowing pile of problems?

Maybe later, if the chance comes up again.

Asgore asks with a small gesture of his hand if he can continue. He’s been waiting for Aofil to come back from their thoughts. Aofil nods, and Asgore moves his hand over to the monster sitting next to him. “Toriel and I, we felt a strange aura that we thought we would never feel, something we never should’ve felt in the first place. It was so familiar, and that scared us. Scared us far more than the glimpse of familiarity it meant. Feeling just a speck of Asriel, after all those years. Same with your connection to...”

Asgore’s voice falters. He puts his balled fist up to his mouth, and exhales deeply into it. Toriel looks away to the side, glancing upwards towards the Delta Rune banner hanging on the wall.

“Chara,” Aofil fills in after giving the boss monsters some time to collect themselves.

“Yes,” Asgore speaks gently into his fist. “Chara. Our child. With Asriel, again. Laying eyes upon you and Asriel in your basement, Aofil. I...” Asgore rubs his forehead tiredly. “I don’t know what I could believe anymore. I wanted to have hope, but what did it mean for what I did when it didn’t amount to anyt-”

Toriel interrupts Asgore by putting her hand onto his. She looks him in the eyes softly, acting as a pillar for him to catch himself before he slips into his own mind.

“We’re here for Aofil,” she reminds just as softly. “For now, we’re here for Aofil.”

“I know.” Asgore’s hand tenses underneath Toriel’s. “I know. Forgive me, I’ll make an effort to catch myself from here on out.”

“You might have to extend that to catch me too, Asgore,” Toriel replies as she retracts her hand back to herself. “Just as I did now.”

“I will.”

Another silence hangs heavy in the air. Aofil leans back a bit as they try and shake off the feeling they remember from being fused with Asriel. The sense of not having control, yet still feeling that every action was theirs. The absent feeling they have about the monster from the memory box, but up close and personal, in the most literal of sense. They shudder at the thought. Visibly so.

“I’m not gonna remind you of the details of Asriel’s return, Aofil. You know that plenty yourself. Sans and Frisk have informed us about it, so it’s fine if you don’t want to relive that.”

Aofil’s eyes shoot, none too subtly, over to Sans. He meets the look, and nods reassuringly. A first for him, but Aofil’s inclined to believe, since it is a first. They’re less inclined to hear exactly what he cooked up, but if Frisk was involved, then maybe it’s not that bad? Maybe?

Can’t be as bad as the truth, and Aofil’s already experienced that. Feeling every minute part of their body transform. Slipping away as another presence took hold of their actions. Sharing a soul. Not the first time for Asriel, but a first for Aofil.

And that first is a million times too many.

Aofil can’t help but wonder. “How did it feel? When Asriel and I fused. My soul, compared to Chara’s?”

Toriel blinks away some tears while summoning a warm and comforting smile. “Very much the same, Aofil. After meeting so many new humans, I can’t believe that neither of us made the connection.” Toriel indicates between her and Asgore. “I guess we were too busy to notice with you being there for us.”

“And how does it feel now?” Aofil asks while nodding once towards their arm. “Do you feel Asriel inside me?”

“No, we don’t,” Asgore looks over to Toriel to make doubly sure. She shakes her head at the notion. “A human’s aura is so much more powerful than a monster’s, so whatever part of him is inside you, we can’t feel.”

“How do you feel about him being inside my soul?”

“That...”

“We can’t really tell right now,” Toriel adds to Asgore stunned silence. “If you’re worried that we suspect that you’ve somehow stolen, or done wrong in acquiring it, then worry not, Aofil. We would never suspect you to do such a thing. It’s more about us coming to terms with knowing, rather than questioning how it happened. It’s been a lesson for us here on the Surface, but take trust in that we’ll not see you as evil because of it. As I said before, we can’t feel him with you, Aofil, so I don’t suspect it taking long for it to fade away for us.”

Aofil nods once again to their arm. “And this?”

“That...”

“Might take a little while longer,” Asgore says as he takes over, but not to the disdain of Toriel. “I trust that you’d like to have the option to not wear long sleeved clothing all the time, right?” He turns his head towards Alphys. “Is there any way you can reverse this effect, Alphys?” Asgore asks carefully.

“I d-don’t know,” comes a nasily reply from the yellow lizard. “I’m n-not really sure how it grew in the first place.”

Asgore bows his head gently. “Then we’ll make a double effort to not associate with Asriel.”

“I c-can try,” Alphys remembers to offer while tapping her claws. “M-maybe it’s j-just a question of shaving it off?”

“Already tried that,” Aofil informs.

“O-oh, then I’m afraid that I have to make more tests.”

“It’s up to you, Aofil,” Asgore repeats. “We will help you in whichever you feel like choosing.”

Aofil throws a thumb over their shoulder, towards the stairs. “And how do you reckon that he feels about it?”

“Do you want me to call him down?” wonders Toriel.

“No.” Aofil retracts their thumb. “Not now.”

Later, maybe. Aofil has more pressing matters to ask about.

“How long have you known about Chara and me being twins?” Aofil asks while rolling their robe back over their forearm. “Did you know before I showed you our parents’ graves?”

“We had our suspicions before, but we didn’t dare to ask,” Toriel explains. “You may have looked like Chara, but you didn’t act like them. You could just as well have been another human that just happened to look similarly to Chara. We didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot with the first human we met, so we didn’t inquire with you. If we were correct in our assumption it would’ve only made our relationship strained and exhaustive.”

Strained and exhaustive earlier, that is. Seems like she’s had time to think it over. Aofil hazards a guess about Asgore as well. Asriel hasn’t, that much Aofil knows. Or at least, not enough time. Again, something for a later time. It’s starting to feel a bit better clearing the air with the monsters. Things they had to worry about slipping up are now slipping off their back, relieving an enormous weight. Although, Aofil feels, and knows, that it’s not long until things will start to hurt. That they’ll feel the pain the weights have caused.

They hope they’re ready.

“With both Frisk and Chara having a red soul, yours feeling the same to us as Chara’s could’ve been because you shared the same color, and only the color.” Toriel moves her hand up over her chest. “But when we realized, we were more relieved than confused. More happy to know, than betrayed that we didn’t know sooner. In a sense, it should’ve been obvious to us, at the time, but we’re glad that it wasn’t.”

Toriel is forced to stop as an emotional cough sneaks up on her. It bounces a couple of tears away from her eyes, and she looks away while trying her eyes.

“We spent a good while at your parents’ grave, Aofil. Thanking. Thanking for the wonderful children that they’ve blessed us with. For you, Aofil, and Chara, you’ve brought so much hope to us monsters.” Asgore’s wide smile fades into a conflicted frown alarmingly fast. “But the time we spent thanking paled compared to the time we spent asking your parents for forgiveness. Because in the end, no matter how much Chara did for us, how much we treated them as our own, they weren’t our own. They were your twin, your parents’ child, and we basked in their company while you looked for them. While you were lesser for their disappearance, we were joyous in our finding. We had the happiness that was made for you, and that wasn’t fair of us. At the time, it felt like the right thing to do, but the times are changing. I know what it means to make a decision that felt right at the time.”

Toriel turns her head back towards Aofil. Her eyes are irritated and thick chasms in her fur are running down her cheeks. “The pastor joined us a short while after you left, Aofil. A wonderful man, he is. He shared with us prayers that you humans give to your deceased. It was a humbling moment. As we prayed, a wind passed us, rustling the aspen tree behind the gravestones. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the pastor smile, and when he ended the prayer, he told me that he believed that your parents heard us, and that they were thankful for hearing what happened to their child. That they knew what became of Chara.”

That’s good and all, but...

“So why did you keep telling yourself that I was Chara then?” Aofil retorts. “Did you apologize just so that you could continue with me?” They can feel something tugging at their cheeks and at their lips. An itch that’s moving out towards their hand.

“No, Aofil. We didn’t. What you did for us was you. Chara did a lot for us as well, but the two of you have done your own separately.”

“Why then did you talk me up to Asriel? Why did you paint me as a hero that I’m not!”

“Because to us, you are-”

Aofil’s hand comes crashing down on the table. The cups and plates knocked in the air bounce once before falling over. “No! I am not a hero! Never was! Never wanted to be!” Aofil pauses as their breathing turns sharp as a knife. “I never wanted this. I don’t want to be the hope! I just-”

They press their fist up to their mouth, biting at their index finger. Aofil averts their eyes, and sigh deeply into their hand. “I don’t want to be a hero. It hurts. It’s heavy. There are so many things I’ve done, that I wish I’d never done. I’m a mess, and it’s because I did what I thought was good. What I thought was the right thing.”

The sight of the Delta Rune burns their eyes, and they shut them closed hard. “If this is what the right thing is making me feel, then how could it have been the right thing for me? If me helping means that I have to put my life on the line every single time, then it’s hurting me to help. If it means that my shoulders will break when I reach my hand out to help someone up, then...”

Aofil shakes their head. It’s all they can do. Just shake their head at it all. How else can they really deal with it? They’ve tried everything else! “If I do right by others, I do wrong by myself, but when I try and make right by myself, I still do wrong. I help you guys, I get attacked. I figure out secrets that I never should’ve known, I get transformed. When I try and distance myself, it just turns into trying to run away from an avalanche with my feet tied together. I figure out a way to cope, but that turns out to make worse for me rather than make right for me. So what can I do? What should I do? What is it that I have to do?”

The table shakes with their voice. Their pain. Now that it’s out though, Aofil can almost see it. It’s hovering like a barely visible cloud. There! Just before them in the air. Twisted, sour, bitter, angry, and so big. Enormous! It’s so vast and overwhelming, that Aofil feels vertigo just looking at it. All their anger at the monsters! At themselves…

All their stupid decisions that lead them to feel this way. They should’ve just left to begin with! They left too late! Before the monsters could’ve had time to hurt them, Aofil should’ve left.

But they didn’t.

Because behind that cloud, behind all that anger, sorrow, and dread, are the monsters. Both figuratively, and, as Aofil’s eyes refocus, literally. In the flesh...In the magic, that is.

Behind that cloud are the monsters that helped Aofil, almost as much as they helped the monsters. The monsters were there for Aofil when they were at their lowest. They lifted Aofil up, and gave Aofil a family. They were alone, but with the monsters, that all changed. The warmth that was sucked out of their life when their parents and sibling died, it all came back with the monsters.

Comforting, nostalgic, and most importantly, real. Alive! The monsters helped Aofil up on their feet again, but Aofil fell. They fell into an even lower hole than before, one that they made themselves. They dug their own hole, their own Underground, their own prison, and they fell. Just like their twin, they fell deep into a dark place. Unlike Chara, Aofil did it all to themselves.

The monsters are stretching out their hands now, they want to help Aofil up. Back up to the Surface, where the sun shines, away from all this pain.

What if it happens again though? What if the monsters will just lift Aofil higher up again? What if Aofil chooses to roll off again? The hole will be deeper yet again, it’s always deeper yet again.

But if they don’t reach up to take the monsters’ hands, then they’ll be stuck down here. Forever! No light, only darkness. No family, only themselves. Alone, with no one to call for help. If they even want to call for help.

The monsters’ done wrong! Aofil’s done wrong! What’s right? What’s the path to choose? It’s too much! Their cloud is asphyxiating them! They need to get out of here!

Aofil’s chair fall over as they bolt out of it. Towards the door! Get away from it all! Get away from the monsters! Get away from all that’s hurting them!

Aofil’s hand halts on the door handle. The setting sun paints an orange picture through the glass pane in the door.

What about them? They can’t run away from themselves. They tried to, but it only made things worse. Their arm, their curse, their friends.

Their family.

But what will happen if they stay!

“It hurts,” Aofil coughs out in the midst of a deep and painful sob, as they squeeze the door handle until their hand turns white from the pressure. “I don’t know what to do. I need help. I can’t trust myself to make the right choice! There’s so much I’ve done wrong to myself. How can I trust someone else if I can’t trust myself? If I’m a hero, then what it means to be a hero is to do wrong every step of the way!”

“You’ve not done wrong though, Aofil.”

“I have! I have to me! And to you!”

“You haven’t!” Toriel shouts after catching herself just before she tries to stand up from her chair. She sits back down as she sees Aofil’s hand slip off the door handle. “Please believe when I say that you haven’t, Aofil. You’ve given us too much to ever have hurt us! You say that you’ve hurt yourself in being with us.” Her voice is on the brink of panic. “Is that why you’ve been gone? Is it because you feel that you’ve hurt you? Aofil?”

“I want to come back...”

“Then come back,” Toriel implores with all her heart as she finally stands up. “Come back to us.”

Aofil meets her eyes. Soft, gentle, comforting. They know she speaks from her heart, they know she means every word. Yet, they can’t feel it. “I can’t,” Aofil laments with a shaky sigh. “Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because...”

No answer.

“Because...”

No answer.

“Because!”

No answer!

“I don’t know! I just want it all to stop! I want to be happy again! I want to go a day without these thoughts! They’re always-”

A pair of large, fuzzy, warm, comforting, nostalgic, gentle, soothing, and careful arms wrap around Aofil.

“Let it out.”

A second pair, just as careful and gentle as the first, wrap around Aofil where there’s space.

“Let it out.”

Blue and yellow arms follow.

“Let it out.”

And a pair of long skeleton arms.

“LET IT OUT!”

Another pair of skeleton arms tries to nuzzle in from the table.

“let me in.”

The pile of hugs scoff in unison, but one voice keeps going. The scoff turns into a cough.

Into a single sob.

Into a weep.

A wail.

And the tears pour like the Waterfall.

“I want to come back...”

“aof.”

“You.”

“ARE.”

“Back.”


	43. Lunch with a friend

“Of all the people, of all the humans. Hell, to meet a human to begin with.”

Aofil cocks their head around to meet the voice. Could it be?

“And lo and behold, it’s the one that owes me a couple of Sunday lunches.”

“Tylior!” Aofil exclaims with overwhelming joy.

He spreads his arms out and nods at the sound of his name. “Gone for just a day, ey? Must be a very strange day since the sun has set, and even risen, plenty of times since we last met.”

The two embrace each other in a large and friendly hug.

“You have no idea,” Aofil says under their breath.

“It’s really good to see you again, Aof,” replies Tylior with a warm pat on Aofil’s back. “Your back looks so wonderful.”

An amused chuckle, one that’s a long time coming for Aofil, is coughed out of them. Along with it Aofil feels some worry fading away. Hugging it out with the monsters is good and all, but feeling another human’s skin against theirs is just something that they just now realized that they needed. They might’ve talked it out with the monsters, but in the end, they’re a human.

Once the two friends part ways from the hug, Tylior runs his hand up and down Aofil. “And the front of you isn’t that bad either,” he jests. “And look, you’re wearing short slee-” Tylior face freezes into a perplexed expression as he spots Aofil’s forearms.

Oh yeah, he didn’t know. Now he does, though.

“You want to touch it?” Aofil asks curiously while lifting their arm up to Tylior. They can see him staring hard on the patch of fur on their arm. They’re half temped to rub his face in it. Actually, more than half, ninety nine out of a hundred tempted to.

He flinches back and blows his lips just before a single strand can touch his lips. Tylior takes a step back as he dries off his mouth. “That’s...”

“The reason I wore long sleeves, yeah.” Aofil returns their arm back to their side. They shoot it back up to Tylior’s face when he steps back towards Aofil, because they might as well take advantage of this once in a lifetime situation. “You sure you don’t want to touch it?”

A gentle, yet still completely stern, swat from Tylior gets his message across. “Not with my face.”

Aofil allows Tylior a couple of seconds to cope with the shock, but as it subsides, Aofil sees a hungering curiosity grew in his eyes. He glances up to Aofil’s eyes to make sure, and Aofil gives him their blessing. He rubs his fingers together half eagerly, half hesitant.

“Ouch!” Aofil jerks their arm back when Tylior touches their fur. They can’t hold their facade for long though, and they start chuckling at Tylior’s panicked expression.

“You can’t fucking do that, Aof,” he says with a shaky voice. “Don’t be an asshole now. I’m confused enough as it is.”

Guess he is. Maybe Aofil went a bit too far. “Sorry,” they say. “It doesn’t hurt me, I swear.”

Tylior runs his finger carefully on the top of Aofil’s arm. It tickles Aofil, and the way he carefully, almost frighteningly, moves his finger around, has Aofil again chuckling to themselves.

Tylior stops his finger. “You’re not getting aroused by this, I hope.”

“What will your girlfriend say when she hears about this?” Aofil feigns disgust.

“Is it real?” Tylior wonders. “I mean...Yeah, is it real? What is it?”

“It’s one of the reasons I...you know,” Aofil admits. “It’s tied to that allergy I had.”

“Magic?”

Aofil nods.

After finishing wiping his fingers off on his shirt, Tylior nods as well. “I see,” he says while keeping his eyes on Aofil’s arm. “Is it connected to how your arm was broken for less than a day? I remember you leaning on it a day or after you punched that wall.”

“You can say that.”

“But it doesn’t hurt you right now?” Tylior asks while raising an inquisitive eyebrow. “You seem to be comfortable with it now. What’s been going on with you these last weeks?”

“I’ve been doing a bit of, let’s say, soul searching.”

“Figuratively?” Tylior pries.

“Not really. It’s not something I really want to discuss. I’m fine now though, despite it.”

“So?” Tylior makes a rolling motion with his hand. “What happened? Last I saw of you, you were more under the weather than rolling fog in the Underground. Now you’re letting me touch some apparent fur that you have on your arm, and have had for as long as we’ve known each other. Magic fur, even. Magic that you’re comfortable around. Your cheeks aren’t red. Your eyes aren’t red. Redder,” he correct. “Seems like your allergy has just up and disappeared! Next thing you’re gonna tell is that you haven’t had your medication?”

Tylior reaches into his pocket. “You don’t even have to tell me.” He pulls out a plastic container filled with the pills Aofil used to take. They even have Aofil’s name on it! “I have them here.”

Aofil’s brow furrows deep as a chasm. “How did you even get them? Why did you get them?”

“Because you still forget to lock your damn door, Aofil.”

“Did you break into my apartment again?”

A deep sigh escapes Tylior. “When you left,” he pockets the pills again, “and didn’t come back after one day like you said you would, I became worried. The mood you were in, the things you talked about when we had that lunch, they balled up. You didn’t answer your phone, your neighbors hadn’t seen you. I...” Tylior moves his hand up to his forehead, and caresses it before running his hand down to his mouth. “I was scared for you. Scared about what you were capable of while in that state of your mind. It was probably already too late to check up on you when I finally decided to, but I still did. You weren’t there when I entered your home. There was only a pile of your mail. You should probably send in your rent if you haven’t done it already.”

“Oh! Yeah, I’ll send it in today.”

Tylior pats his pocket. “Your doctor also sent you that refill you asked for. Two bottles, so I took one in case I ran into you here. It was the last place you said that you were going to, so I thought maybe...”

Tylior sighs into his hand before removing it. He takes a couple of second to collect himself by staring into the horizon. “You wanna get some lunch? Sevoltne told me of a place that she recommends. She left her car around the corner for me to use. I’m supposed to visit her family here, but you know how the buses are. Always running late, around the time it takes to have lunch with a friend or so. Unless you’re waiting for a bus youself, that is?”

“No,” Aofil points across the bus parking lot, towards an incoming moving truck. “I just need to give the driver the address. I was planning on getting a ride from them, but I could go for some lunch, sure.”

“Ah, so you’re moving?” Tylior gives Aofil a wide smile. “Then I’ll wheel the car around next to the truck.”

“You do that.”

It strikes Aofil, not enough to be odd, because in a sense, the main bus station would be the best chance of meeting another human, but it strikes them nonetheless, that it’s been the place where they’ve run into someone they thought were out of their life, and both are human to boot.

This time, however, they’re actually looking forward to spending time with the human they met at the bus terminal. A friend, someone to clear the air some more with. The extensive talking they had with the monsters was exhaustive, but as Aofil went to bed in one of the Dreemurr’s guest rooms that night, they actually looked forward to sleeping. Even better, they looked forward to waking up.

It’s been awhile since Aofil last remembered wanting to wake up the next morning.

It was a lot to do though before they could close their eyes and feel safe about it. There’s still a lot to do even now. A long road ahead for Aofil, but they’ve taken the first step. They admitted. It was the first step. They admitted…

And almost had all their air hugged right out of them.

There was some talking afterwards, about what Aofil felt the monsters had done wrong to them. They mounted all the blame, but Aofil knew that they didn’t have to. It was all their own choice, after all. Their choice to stay, their choice to help, their choice to run away.

This time though, Aofil’s gonna make the right choice.

They hope.

They want.

Please, let it be this time.

It’s starting off pretty good, that much Aofil can say. Despite the other times, with Aofil hitting their head, falling down into the Underground and almost dying, and deciding to willingly kill the monsters, instead of accidentally.

They left that part out. It’s in the past. A past that never happened, but that Aofil has to live with regardless. That will never fade.

Aofil flexes the fur on their arm.

Nor will this, so the best course of action is trying to live with it. Aofil wishes that they’ve learned that sooner.

But wishing made their curse blossom, wishing that all of this never happened. Magic doesn’t exist...Well, it does, but not the magic that involves wishing. Only other magic, like fur growing on an arm because a piece of a monster prince’s soul is fused to a broken human’s soul that broke during them almost dying to their long lost twin fusing with said monster prince’s soul and-

“Woah! Watch out!”

Aofil recoils back, stumbling as their thinking occupied them enough not to notice them walking right into the opened passenger door of the moving truck. They rub the impact on their forehead, gritting their teeth and sucking air through them to keep the pain in.

The driver closes the door. “You alright?” she asks while checking for any bleeding.

“I’m,” Aofil exhales deeply, “fine.”

“You’re Aofil, right? We was told to meet you here.”

“Yeah, here’s the address.” Aofil hands over the paper they got from Asgore to the driver. The seal is still on, as Aofil’s pretty damn sure where Asgore and Toriel have planned on Aofil living. “I’m having lunch with a friend, so you can drive ahead.”

The driver taps the paper between her thumb and index finger. “Sure.” She seems a bit confused over the whole ordeal.

Aofil tries to make it seem like they don’t notice, or is in thumping pain. They throw up a thumb in approval. “Yes.”

They’re saved in the nick of this awkward moment by Tylior honking a few spaces away from the moving truck. Aofil waves a quick goodbye to the driver, and heads over.

“Careful not to hit your head,” he advises as Aofil eases themselves into the passenger seat, brushing away some yellow feathers before seating completely.

Did he see? Does he know? Aofil keeps their eyes on him as they fumble with their seat belt, but he either has the most developed poker face in the world, or he didn’t see. Judging by Aofil’s past experiences with playing poker with him, they hazard the latter option.

“How far is it?” Aofil asks.

Tylior turns around to show that he’s talking on the phone, and Aofil mouths a “sorry”.

“Yes, Sev, I’m on my way there.” Tylior turns out on the main street. “No, that’s not the sound of your car. It’s the bus.”

Aofil decides it’s best not to say anything, and take the opportunity to look around the city they’re about to live in from now on. They haven’t been around it ever since they arrived and went on to look for a toilet.

Buildings with a mixture of architectural ages pass by the car window. Some new, some old. Some clearly human, some clearly monster. If Aofil didn’t know any better they’d call it jarring. They still do, but that might change once they get used to it.

Again.

Get used to monsters around them. Get used to magic. Get used to that there won’t probably be a quiet morning, or day, from now on. Perhaps not in a bad way though. When Aofil was alone, when it was just them and their thoughts, it didn’t really work out, to say the underwhelmingly least. With the monsters now back to occupy Aofil’s mind with other things, it might be a good change of pace with some noise to drown out their thoughts.

Hearing Tylior talk with his girlfriend about meaningless things is also good to Aofil’s ears. His life is safe and good enough for meaningless to be meaningful. Although Aofil’s not sure that they’ll go so far as to argue...

“Orange is a complimentary color to your scales, Sev. It’ll look great! It’s also the color of the monster kingdom, so why not? I don’t care if it’s purple that’s the actual color of the monster kingdom, but you get my point. I think it looks cozy, so can’t we just leave it at there.”

Whatever it is Tylior is arguing.

“What do you mean ‘clash with the upholstery’?”

Yeah...whatever it might be.

His problem is not about memories from a previous reset going haywire, a long dead twin coming back and possessing, or bringing back an equally long dead prince to life, that’s for sure.

Aofil shakes them off. Not the thoughts! Not now! They’ll do their daily coping later. Now they want to enjoy themselves with a friend. Have lunch in the sun, and just not worry about anything.

And it is their enormous relief that they have a chance to.

That their head is actually listening to them. It’s progress, it’s a step forward, and Aofil’s gonna enjoy every moment it opens up!

To a certain degree, that is. Maybe they’ll finally give in and watch some of that Mew Mew Kissy Kissy with Alphys and Undyne. Although from what the two of them have described, it might be too much in the meaningless direction. Aofil won’t know until they try though, but they fear that once Undyne has dragged them in she won’t let them go. Both figuratively, and literally.

“Yes, I’ll see you soon, my cute lizard.”

A huffed voice escapes Tylior’s phone’s receiver before he disconnects the call. “She hates when I call her that, but if I’m lucky it’ll shush any suspicion down from her that I’m actually here.”

“You’re such a gentlemen,” Aofil comments with a snark.

“I know,” he replies.

“Shouldn’t be too far away now,” Tylior informs as he turns away from the main street a couple of minutes after. “Sevoltne said that she’s heard of this place, but never got to visit it. Should have nice food.”

“Is it Mettaton’s perchance?” Aofil wonders.

A quick scoff has some feathers on the dashboard in front of Tylior dancing briefly before settling back down. “Yeah, sure. Like we would be able to find a table. I know that you know the royal family, but I don’t think even they can’t just waltz inside and find a table just like that.”

“It helps if you’re kidnapped by him.”

There’s a silence.

“How serious are you about that, Aof?”

They shrug. “I’m not lying.”

Another silence.

“It’s not like I wanted to be kidnapped,” Aofil makes clear with an outstretched hand. “In fact, I was having lunch with some other friends over at a place called...”

Aofil’s hands flops down as they see what street they’re on.

Oh no.

Tylior parks a car length away from a familiar store front.

No, why did he park? Why here?

Aofil turns to quickly implore Tylior to keep driving, but from the corner of their eye, they see that they’ve already been spotted. They can’t drive away now! The car might be flipped over!

What to do?

“Aofil?” Tylior reaches into his pocket. “Are you alright? Do you need some-”

“No!” Aofil glances back to the monster that’s now definitely spotted them from outside the car. They take a deep breath, and look sternly into Tylior’s eyes. "When I get out of the car, that giant spider in the window is probably gonna come charging out the store for me. It's gonna be followed by an army or so of smaller ones that will drag me inside the cafe. Just wait until they're out of reach for you, and then get out of the car. I might be able to calm the situation down before you enter."

Tylior’s hand stays in his pocket. “You-”

“Just!” Aofil heaves a heavy sigh with the intent to come to terms with what they’re about to do. It helps, but not a lot. “Trust me on this.”

Tylior’s perplexed silence is as good as an answer that Aofil’s gonna get. They unbuckle, and take one last breath before exiting the vehicle.

Muffet turns curiously around as the little legs of the chime shaped like a spider rings from above her door.

“Ahuhuhu! It’s you again, Aofil!” she cheers as Aofil is dragged heels over head through the opened door with Muffin clinging like an ill weighted belt. He’s accompanied by a small platoon of spiders steering Aofil’s stumbles in the general direction of the counter Muffet is behind.

“Hello again, Muffet,” Aofil greets back while almost tripping over themselves from the rapid swinging the one big, and many small, spiders do to coax Aofil towards Muffet. “Do you have a table for two?”

Her eyes widen.

“For two?” she repeats while putting a hand up to her subtly blushing cheek.

Her eyelids sink like rocks in an empty ocean full of air as Tylior comes bursting through the door. “Aofil!” he shouts, not entirely sure if he should try and drag the spiders on Aofil away, or not.

“For two,” Muffet repeats with her hand now catching her heavy chin underneath her grumpy frown. She snaps her finger on three of her other hands, and the spiders leading Aofil through their waltz of wobbling jump off.

It takes a few steps for Aofil to regain their balance, and when they do, they meet a sour stare from Muffet. Almost triple as sour, because of the number of her eyes. She nods to outside one of the windows. “I’ll send a spider out with a spider doughnut for you two.”

Aofil barely manages to brush off their shoulders before their ears send the signal to halt all processes currently happening with Aofil’s body! They have to clarify this.

“For free?” falls out of Aofil’s mouth.

Muffet turns around, grumbling to herself. “Yes,” she answers before taking some quick steps into the kitchen.

Her cheeks are as red as her flowing dress.

A startled, borderline embarrassingly sounding, yelp escapes from Tylior. Aofil swivels around to see a spider with a menu hoisting itself down towards Tylior. He takes the menu, and holds it like it’s about to bite him any second now.

Another spider hands Aofil a menu as well. It hangs for a second or two, staring at Aofil, before zipping back up into the wooden rafters.

“What the fuck, Sevol?” Tylior mumbles, as he and Aofil seat themselves just outside the Spider Cafe. The sun peeks out from behind some clouds, shining warm light over the two friends. “Why did you recommend this place?”

“Every meal is an adventure with the monsters, Tyl.”

He barely hears Aofil. “Yeah, I know that it was with Sev, but I thought that was just her. You were literally dragged into the store, Aofil. By spiders! And that one of them was huge! Then the one behind the counter said she would give you free doughnuts.”

As if on cue, a handful of spiders descend with two plates with one doughnut presented on each plate. One for Tylior, and one for Aofil.

“Could we get some water?” Aofil asks one of the spiders. “Or do you want something else, Tyl? Coffee?”

“Sure, I can go with some coffee.”

“Two cups of coffee, then. And some water, just in case.”

The waiter spiders skittle back inside through a gap in the wall.

“You seem familiar with all of this to the point of it being unsettling, Aof.” Tylior feels a need to say. An extreme need, judging by the tone of his voice. “Do you know the owner or something?”

“Something like that,” Aofil answers before diving behind the menu. “It’s a long story,” they add from behind the pictures of food and numbers stating ridiculous prices.

“They must be tangled up or something, because you’re full of long stories, Aofil. No chance in hell that none of them are correlated.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Aofil lowers the menu. “Now that we’re here, what is it you want to know?”

Tylior checks around him to see if the two of them are alone. There are some monsters a couple of tables away, but they’re busy with their own talking to catch Aofil and Tylior’s.

He leans forward with his forearms flat on the table, and his hands clasped together. “How are you, Aofil? Really, how do you feel?”

“I’m tired.” Aofil sighs. They extend their hand to catch the cup of coffee carefully lowered into their reach. “Some time ago was the first night of I don’t even know how many nights that I actually fell asleep peacefully, and even that was hard fought as I tossed and turned for a long while. I got a lot of nights ahead of me before I’ve slept off what I need to.”

“It’s a step forward though, right?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Must be a huge one if you’re saying it yourself, Aof. I’m glad to hear it.”

Aofil agrees with a nod. “Yeah, it is.”

“So what did you do? You said you did some soul searching. What do you mean by that? If you’re comfortable talking about it, that is.”

“I don’t know, Tylior. I don’t really want to.”

Tylior puts up a hand to show that it’s no problem. “It’s fine, Aofil. I get it. Get that you don’t want to talk about it. I ain’t got the foggiest what actually happened for you to turn around this well.”

“Lot of things.”

“That was one of my guesses, yes.”

The coffee is strong, and is surprisingly devoid of spiders. Aofil likes it, and they have another sip. “I’m kinda the reason that this city even exists. One of the reasons. I might sound like bragging, and I hope that one day I’ll see it as bragging, but when I arrived here, it was as if the entire weight of it was on my shoulders. Turns out that I’m a human, and that sometimes I make mistakes, and that sometimes I can’t be trusted to fix them myself. Meeting you, Tylior, was one of those mistakes.”

Tylior samples some coffee himself after waiting patiently for a couple of spiders to place a jug of water along with two glasses on the table. “I’m certain there’s more to it than that, Aofil, so I’m gonna let you continue before I also make a mistake.”

He sure has patience, and for that Aofil is unbelievably grateful.

“My mistake was trying to run away instead of facing what I’d done. I brought a monster to life, and then I just fucked off from it, hoping that it would never catch up with me.” Aofil throws their arm up for a second. “Hard to run away from something when it’s a part of you. I’m only slightly exaggerating.” Aofil presses their thumb and index finger together while closing one eye and narrowing the other. “And by that I mean slightly.”

Tylior nods as he digest it all. He lifts his cup up to his mouth to drink again, but suddenly his expression furrows, and he tilts his head while locking his eyes on Aofil. “You sure that your last name isn’t actually Frankenstein?”

Aofil exhales a wheezy chuckle. “Is that what you’re having your class read at the moment?”

“Maybe.” Tylior sips loudly on his coffee. “Maybe.”

“But yeah, I tried to escape everything that had happened to me. For good reasons, at the time. It was just so much. I couldn’t stand to be near them. It hurt too much, it reminded me too much. I had to get away. I had to close them out of my future chapters.”

“By them you mean the monsters?” Tylior wants to make clear.

“Yeah, the monsters. The ones I met, the ones I made friends, almost family, with.”

“Almost?” Tylior wants to make clear again.

“Maybe later I can say that they are, but not now. It’s too early for me.”

“I see. So the past was haunting you, and only by confronting the past, and by telling it that it was haunting you, did it stop haunting you.”

“More or less. Something like that.”

“Gotcha,” Tylior ends. He leans back in his chair, and moves his hands behind his head for support. “The important thing is that it sounds that for you, the past is now finally the past, and that you can move forward from it. It’s good to hear that from you, Aofil. It really is. It takes a huge weight off of me as well.”

“I wouldn’t have been able to without you, Tyl. So thank you for that. From the bottom of my soul.”

“I don’t know much about souls,” he admits with a quick shrug, “but coming from you, someone who the last time I spoke with treated magic like water on an oil fire, I’m absolutely convinced that you mean well.”

“I do.”

“Nice!” Tylior moves himself upright in his chair, and claps his hands together. “I’ll send you my consultation fee in the mail once I get your new address.”

Aofil laughs. It’s good, it’s relieving. It’s been far too long.

But now it’s here, and Aofil’s never gonna let it go.

“Isn’t it enough that I got you a free doughnut?” they reply with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh yeah!” Tylior exclaims, as if he suddenly remembered that he has a doughnut to eat. “You did. I guess it depends how good it tastes. I can consider knocking off a minute or two from the many years we’ve known each other if it’s tasty. Does the owner make it by herself? Doughnut made by a spider?”

“From,” Aofil corrects while reaching for their own.

Tylior sighs and rolls his eyes at Aofil. “Made from a spider, then.”

“Plural.”

Tylior shakes his head and scoffs. He regrets it immediately after taking a bite.

“Chew fast,” Aofil suggest before taking a bite of their own. “Otherwise the spiders will escape.”

Tylior’s face turn paler than Aofil’s fur. He stares at the doughnut, and a little spider crawls out of his mouth.

Aofil follows it with their finger. “There goes one.” It jumps down on Tylior’s plate, and scurries off across the street.

Tylior slams the doughnut down, and heaps a great mouthful of water. He rinses his mouth, and lobs it all over the paved road. “W-w-w-w-hat?” he stutters out in disbelief.

Aofil glances into the shop. Luckily Muffet didn’t catch Tylior spitting out the water. She does however catch Aofil looking at her through the glass. Aofil waves the bitten doughnut in their hand at her and shoots her a smile.

She turns away, but shoots a quick peek over her shoulder before occupying herself with an oven.

Aofil stretches over the table towards Tylior’s plate. “I’m guessing you’ve had your fill.”

“Why did you recommend this?” he mutters to himself. “Why, Sevoltne?”

Aofil takes that as a no, and bring Tylior’s doughnut over to their own plate. They flick a crumb away with a tiny spider attached to it from the table.

They miss it as the crumb bounces away.

And then their plate starts bouncing.

And then Aofil starts bouncing in their chair.

What the hell? An earthquake? Magic? Or-

Loud steps round the street corner, and a long shadow stretches all the way to Aofil. They drop their doughnut, and it takes the opportunity to escape in tandem with Tylior’s.

He also looks up from his confusion. As he turns around, he flinches into the table. Water and coffee spills, and pours through the crack in the wooden table.

At the end of the street stands Aofil’s house. The home they sold at Mt. Ebott. It stands… It stands on two legs. Two pink and black legs, with shoes the size of Tylior’s car, and heels as tall as the streetlights.

The kitchen window is opened, and a blue head pops out. “Aofil!” Undyne shouts with her hands cupped around her mouth. “Alphys!” she then screams with her head turned inwards. “Get this house over there! I want to see their face!”

What the absolute hell have they gone and done now?

Undyne’s yelling is drowned out by the deafening steps of the house walking closer on legs so polished it almost melts the area around it.

“...Awesome, right?” she finishes as the house stops next to Aofil. “You look hilarious with your face like that, Aofil! Why are you so baffled? It’s only your house, you know! Ngahahahaha!”

Aofil’s neck almost breaks as they look up to meet her.

Undyne sees that, and again turns her head inside the house. “Lower, Alphys!”

Aofil’s never heard anything as loud as an entire house squatting down. The sound has monsters from the entire street open their windows and head out their doors to see what the hell is going on. Muffet takes one peek outside, and then goes back inside, shaking her head.

“We got you your house back, Aofil!” Undyne yells, now only a single story above Aofil. “You want a ride?”

A cupboard behind Undyne opens up, and its content, consisting of various sized metal pans and pots, spills out. Before she can react, one lands on her like a helmet, and she stumbles around. More than a handful make it through the window opening, but they all land in a newly formed spider web that’s made in an instant.

Aofil nods towards the spider standing in her restaurant’s door. “Thank you, Muffet.” they say with a smile.

“Are you gonna order anytime soon?” she asks back with her arms crossed.

“Are we?” Aofil shoots the question over to Tylior, who just sits still with his mouth wide opened. A fair reaction, so Aofil’s not gonna hold it against them.

Muffet looks up towards Undyne finally managing to get the pot off her head in the kitchen window.“Are you gonna eat too?” Muffet asks irritably.

“Uhh...No?” comes a very flustered answer.

“Then stop blocking my cafe!” Muffet commands. She lifts one hand up, ready to snap.

“Alphys!” Undyne shouts in a panic as she shuts the kitchen window. “Get us out of here!”

The image of their own house running scared down the street using a pair of pink and black legs wearing high heels is never gonna leave Aofil, but it’s a hell a lot of better than what they’ve gone through. For now though, lunch. As soon as Tylior comes back to his senses.

If he ever comes back.

Aofil’s gonna do him a solid and order so that he has something to eat should he come back. The menu only has one thing without spiders in it, so Aofil’s pretty sure what he’d order anyway.

“Could we get a refill of some water and coffee, Muffet?”

But she’s already stormed off inside.

“A-Aofil?” Tylior manages to squeeze out of himself.

“Hm?”

“D-does this happen every time you eat with the monsters?”

“More or less.”

Tylior sinks into his palms with his elbow against the table.

“I think I might be the one scared of magic now, Aof.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it ends for now!
> 
> One Falls will continue with a fourth installment, but I will get to that after a nice little spring cleanup of what I've thus far. It's a tradition by now, so I might as well continue with it.
> 
> Stay tuned next week though for something really special I've been itching to share!
> 
> Stay tuned for:
> 
> One Falls: Change Of Heart(s)
> 
> If you want, the One Falls anthology has a channel in the [Fanfic Paradise Discord server.](https://discord.gg/sXVXy7w) I frequent it daily, so if you fancy, feel free to join. Be seeing you there!


End file.
